Thursday, April 17, 2014
I Hate My Life
Pardon my melodrama, starting your day this way. But the first thing I do every morning is pull aside the white bedroom curtain and look out at the long wrought-iron planter on our walkway, which looked so pretty with blue and yellow pansies and blue grape hyacinths spilling over in abundance.
I cling to things that are beautiful, creative and in place, like the vibrant red and pink geraniums in my sunroom office. Lifeboats in a sea storm, if you will.
This morning, I could see from the second floor that they had been ravaged--not eaten by a deer, but dug up and trimmed by the same little pest who took scissors to her bangs yesterday.
To paraphrase Nora Ephron's mother, what's bad in life is good on paper. So I'm left with a story--about how it feels to upend my life for a fioster child who has now upended my flowers. I'm so mad and sad--and also angry at Fig, whom I paid to watch her last night while I met Bill. It only takes a minute of a teen checking Facebook for a determined little sister to do damage.
So cranky. There are many things I can't do right but I can do my flowers. And I am mad. Thank you for listening.