Cake AND Sinclair’s?

I’ve been thinking about starting a blog for quite some time now. But, I’m really big on privacy. I very much believe in the saying “not everyone needs to know everything about you”. So, I’ve decided with a few name changes, and maybe not so much detail, I will start making entries. 

I started today off amazingly. Honestly, I’ve never woken up at the ass crack of dawn feeling so energized. Probably because I slept the entire evening before, from the time I got home up and until the time I had to get up and get dressed for school, but I am soooo glad I did. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat upright in my bed, with my eyes still rolling in the back of my head while I continue to doze off. Too bad it still didn’t give me the motivation to actually get up and get dressed. That’s a horrible thing to have to do. Squeeze into pants? Put on a shirt? Who does that? Who wants to do that? I laid in bed from 6:15-6:50. When I finally realized it was 6:51 I decided maybe then would be the time to actually put on some clothes. It’d probably be unacceptable to roll up into school in only a Panther’s shirt and some underwear. Can’t say it’d be my fanciest attire. So, at that, in the laziest way you can fathom, threw on a grey tank-top, hoodie, and a pair of blue jeans. I ran my straightener through my hair (if you haven’t realized by now, I’m a girl. Shocker, right?), and actually tried to make it look like I put even the smallest amount of effort into my appearance by slapping on some concealer, foundation, and mascara. If you’re someone who doesn’t wear makeup and doesn’t know what in the hell those things are, I basically applied some skin colored paint so you can’t see my uneven skin tone and put black gunk on my eyelashes so I don’t look like a rat. (That really made me chuckle. I love makeup, but when you describe it in that way, it’s kinda funny and sounds like a waste of time.) ANYWAYS, I finally look presentable, right? Eh. I mean… I could do better. Whatever. (That’s honestly the same conversation I have with myself every morning.) I do all the necessary things like the brushing of the teeth, and the deodorizing of the armpits, yaddah yaddah. Clean and fresh. Wink wink. 

I finally make my way downstairs. It appears that I’ve beaten my mother to the kitchen since there is no yelling of how my 4 month old nephew “exploded” his diaper (her words, not mine.) Let me go ahead and tell you, I am in no means a sneaky person. I cannot successfully do something slick without someone noticing, because I am just now good at it. So, I get out a small Tupperware bowl, and within it I place a slice of chocolate cake. I already knew that if my mom knew I was doing this I’d totally get bitched out. She desperately wants me to stop being such a fat-ass, but I can’t help it. I LIKE FOOD. Sorry, ma. So, I stuck the bowl deep within my lunchbox and crossed my fingers that she wouldn’t notice it when she put the remaining food in it. (Yes, my mom packs my lunch. Why? Because she fuckin’ can.) I go about my business and finish up whatever else I needed to do, she comes down the stairs, the same “Mike, get me a diaper!” routine follows (Mike is my father), and then she’s packing up the rest of my food. “Hey ma, can you put some more of those things in my lunch like you did yesterday? The puff things?” I called while still in the bathroom. “Yeah. What’s this bowl in the bottom?” Shit. I forgot about the cake. Now I really look fat. “Uhh… Cake.” I hear my mom snort loudly. “Cake AND Sinclair’s? NICE” she laughed. I felt my eyes roll in the back of my head. Girl, I know. You don’t have to be a dick about it. C’mon. 

Time somehow flies by. Before we know it, it’s 7:39 and we haven’t even gotten in the car. It’s a good 15 minute drive to get to my school. We finally load in and we’re making it down the road, but guess what? The gas light comes on. “SHIT” is such a lovely thing to hear come from your mother’s mouth on a beautiful Wednesday morning. Her temper is quickly running on it’s end and she’s getting a bit mouthy. Let’s just say, there is plenty more swearing and threatening to ram into the backs of people as we make our way to the closest gas station. For it to be so early on a Wednesday, it was extremely busy. Two humongous trucks were taking up all four of the gas pumps. My mom was heated. We finally managed to get close enough to use one of the pumps, and she flings the car door open and gets out in a huff. “Hand me my damn wallet before I have a stroke” she tells me. I oblige. Something happens, and I watch as she slams the door and stomps off in the direction of the convenience store. Nice, ma. About 20 minutes pass by and she’s back, finally pumping the gas. We manage to start making our way to the school, and I tell her how I need a know. “Alright, get a pen and a piece of paper. I’ll tell you what to write.” I kid you not, this woman is trying to get me to write down how my nephew “shit all over the place” and that “life fucking happens” in those exact words. “No, mom. Keep it PG.” So this is how the note went:

I have a 4 month old, a 4 year old, and a 14 year old. On top of that, I have MS. Two of which were sick this morning. I also ran out of gas. So, please excuse my daughter’s tardy. Any questions, comments or concerns, call (number here). 
(Mother’s name)

Gotta be honest, it cracked me up. We pulled into my school’s parking lot and proceeds to tell me she’ll walk in there and whoop some ass if they try to give me detention over this. So that was my morning. 

I’ve gotta wrap this up though. I’m writing this in 4th period, and it’s almost time to leave. So I’ll leave you to read about my morning. Maybe I’ll plan this in a more appropriate manner and won’t have to rush for time. I might be able to write about the entire day then. 

I hope those of you reading this have/had a wonderful day, and if not, tomorrow will be better. Hopefully something in this made you break into a smile or laugh a bit. We’ll see how consistent this is. 


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