like a bird into a window

i wanted to run like a crazy person out of yesterday. but really, i just slumped out if it. put myself down on the couch, watched the neighbors host a dinner party with peonies and sparkling and what looked life soufflé. in the kitchen, two women moved with their arms around each other’s waist. drifted together back to the dining room, carrying between them a basket of fruit. the others at the table reclined in their seats, tilted their faces up. it was fucking gorgeous.

meanwhile, i’m squirming in the griminess of my life. i keep thinking i’ll hatch out of my past, or crack the shell of the present, and emerge swanlike—all clean and and and…winged? what the hell am i saying. i am saying that i hate the constant reminders of how weird my life is. it feels diseased. or rabid. yes, yes that’s it. a rabid life all yellow toothsome snarl. run. save yourselves.

basically, i can pass myself off as one of you until the rental agency is like, Get rid of them [children] or get out. and i’m all, Oh. I have children. Oh, and wait, that’s not anywhere near normal. and then all the other messed up weird bits of my life start jumping up and down screaming for attention in my head. there’s the Psycho Dad section waving its arms, screaming, Don’t forget me! then Most Bizarre Past Ever comes out banging drums, and soon all these alarming components are trundling awkwardly and excitedly around in my head like the world’s most freakish parade all swaying to Frank Sinatra.

this is day 2 of The Cleansing. seems relevant at this point. yesterday almost worked out, because for most of it i was too distracted by living to feel hungry. but last night definitely found mimosa and i eating the wee bit of the kids’ chicken and okra that was leftover. we looked at it, picked up forks and devoured all two bites. delish. today is actually easier. am not hungry. am happy and energetic. or else, i’m delusional. also fine by me.