For my mother

my life is not interesting. i get up at 5:50 a.m. i literally stumble to the bathroom - i have hit the wall a few times now. i leave for work. i see the same man at the park throwing his ball for his golden retriever and then wish i could take my dogs outside without them running away, barking their noggins off. i drive the same stretch of freeway and have now followed the same car to the same parking lot three days in a row. i have also avoided being stopped by the same bus three days in a row.

eight hours pass.

i drive home, realizing i am driving home when i am about fifteen minutes into my drive. my drive is sixteen minutes long. i think about being productive and reading or running or cleaning or being non-catatonic. and then i stop thinking. and i take a nap.

two hours pass.

i wake up and hear my mother saying: you should update your blog. your sisters have.

so i do.

* the golden retriever i do not have and that i do not throw sticks or other pet paraphernalia for*