Back in the Trenches

Another day, another dollar, kids. My life as a barefoot, carefree, wind in my hair Malibu-an was not to be. Georgia Power called and said, “Bitch, don’t try us.”

Also, in a moment of profound insanity, I promised my friend’s kids (ten and eleven) that I would take them to Six Flags (among other idiotic promises I can’t believe I made) on their spring break, which started on Saturday. Although I am the queen of canceling plans, there’s no way I could or would do that to children. If you’ve ever been a disappointed kid, you know how it feels. So I took the little jerks to Six Flags, and it wasn’t as heinous as I thought it was going to be. The lines weren’t that long and the kids were funny enough and the weather was pretty pleasant. Aside from spending a bazillion dollars on hamburgers, it was a fun day.

On Sunday I steam-cleaned my floors to prepare for my upcoming move, and I was able to coax them into a little child labor in exchange for some ice cream and Ariana Grande. This magical combo doesn’t just work on kids, though. I’m also highly likely to do most things if Rocky Road and Ariana Grande are involved. Tomorrow, I promised to take them swimming at Chastain Park, and I just… I don’t remember why I made these promises! Was I drunk?! In a really optimistic mood?! I think because when I made them April seemed so far away that it was almost in the abstract. Well, April’s here and it’s time for me to pay up, I guess. It’s really not that bad except for the initial realization that I have to get out of bed and put on pants on my day off. Everything else after that is a breeze. But public pools? God help me.

Okay, I’ve gotta get back to work. Much to my chagrin, electricity ain’t free.

Bisous !