It's all about you, which is to say, it's all about me!

Here Mama, lemme take your picture!

If there would be music playing right now, it would have to be the mixed tape my boyfriend gave me when I was 15 years old called, "Angry music for those days with bark." The tape is long gone and I haven't seen the boyfriend in probably 10 years, but the memory of the tape remains.

Today most certainly has bark.

Seems as if my life consists of the following -

"Here, honey (mommy, friend, daughter, sister, etc.,) you sure have been working hard and I'm sure you could use a break. Why don't you take some time to yourself? But first, I need you to patch my jeans, can you run to the grocery store for me, I want to go have a smoke first, where are those shoes, have you seen the keys, I need some juice, can you burn this or that on your computer, run this to me at work, what's for dinner, Well, I don't know where those clothes go, I have to clean the garage, read me this story, rewind this movie, return this call, write this letter for me."

And then, 45 minutes later,

"I don't know why you're so bitchy - you've had ALL DAY to yourself!"

Here's my fantasy:

I wake up on my own.

I wear my own clothes that have recently been washed, folded and put away, stain free.

I have coffee that I drink while it's still hot. I drink it, not wear it.

I can watch the news.

I actually manage to go to the bathroom with the door closed in complete privacy.

I can eat what I want when I want.

I have an adult conversation with folks who don't want a damned thing from me.

I manage to take a shower by myself and have time to actually wash all of my parts in that single shower without being yanked out to answer the phone, fix a PB&J, clean up a broken glass, hold a rope, gun the engine so everyone can listen for that strange ping-ing sound, find a work shirt, CLEAN THE FUCKING HOUSE.

That cute little sushi dude comes and delivers my little slice of heaven and my dear girlfriends come and share.

Sounds nice, doesn't it? In reality, this is what I get:

"I don't know why you're so upset - the house is not a disaster - it looks like this EVERY SINGLE DAY!!"

Thank you, Captain Obvious, you have just proved my point.