2004-04-20
whoopsydaisy
Friday night:
Drunk, stoned men break down my door at three in the morning. The mother and her friends have gone out on another bender. Like every night I work.
Saturday morning:
One man staggers out the front door. Another sleeps on the couch. Apparently they took too many pills with their beer the night before.
Saturday afternoon:
Took an hour off, with permission, to get some lunch with the boyfriend. Come back and the mother freaks because she had to change a dirty diaper. Was surprised she was up before four or five in the afternoon.
Saturday night:
The kids keep saying to each other, "shhh, Mommy's sleeping," which is what I say to them constantly when we're home.
Sunday morning:
Realized I had worked double the promised number of hours for the third week in a row.
Sunday afternoon:
Hide baggies of weed and pills and white powder from the children. Again. Note how well they've taken to my boyfriend, mostly because he pays attention to them.
Sunday night:
Decide to quit.
Monday morning:
Start the job search again.
Monday afternoon:
The mother starts kissing my patootie. She glances at me nervously and tears up when the children tell me they love me when I tuck them into bed. "No! We want Sheila to do it!" they scream at her like how they used to scream at me.
Monday night:
Everyone I know starts e-mailing me lists of jobs I could have and letters of support. My mother is scared. My father sends me his credit card number.
Tuesday morning:
Overwhelming sense of calm. We've gotten along well for the most part, but my time has come.
betholindo at 10:55 a.m.