Today one kid lit matches and tried to hide them under the couch. Where the wood floor is.
The dog ate $20 worth of fancy u-pick apples AND THAT FUCKER DIDN’T EVEN PICK THEM. Then he discharged them on the floor. Where the carpet is.
The only exercise I got today was walking to and from a park over and over with the kids. They collect “walking sticks” but chase me with them like spears, so these walks are a little more aerobic than they sound.
I’m mad, because the meditation apps aren’t working to soothe my anxious mind anymore…probably because I am also either simultaneously scrolling through the news (oh no) or monitoring the children (oh no into infinite).
I am hoping unreasonably that tomorrow will be different. All the apples are gone. So I guess there’s that. I’ve been shopping Airbnb’s to go “NOT HERE” and at first I was looking for a nice family get away, maybe 2 bedroom, 2 bath, somewhere fun for the kids. Now, I’m looking for a one-person shack in the mountains past the mountains, where I can cut and color my hair and hide out for a few days until my new identity papers arrive.
Day 357 of “The Me Project,” Day 221 of Bunker Life.