monday blues

today is monday...thus, the title.

i lost my job friday. this is particularly disturbing because it was unwarranted and my employer was a friend. lesson No. 1...never work for friends. the lines between employer and employee and "friender" (i'm sure that's not a word) and "friendee" become blurred. so...today...i am unemployed, a newlywed of 6 months, a mother of three, and forty-one years old with no clear definition of the latter half of my life. My 20 year old son is lost...he and his girlfriend and their infant daughter may be moving in with me soon...the scripture about "reaping and sowing" comes to mind. My daughters are twelve and thirteen and will soon die if they do not receive a pink "razr" phone. i left the consonants out in the word "razor" because apparently, it is cool.

WHAT'S TRUE...I love being married to my man. My relationship with God is shallow (I'm working on that), and I want a drastic haircut. Also, I love spinach, canned or fresh. I desire to be a painter. I'm angry...Here is an angry poem from days gone past.

Tuesday Night

So I'm reading Roethke and I'm wondering
how he did it - how he could turn weeding
a garden into a grieving, death celebration.
And I'm thinking that I'll never be able
to do that, at least not with nature,
and then you drag into the room,
that familiar scowl on your face.
You've just read a poem that I wrote and you
want to know why it doesn't rhyme. You say it's definitely not poetry.
Definitely.
"A dreamer," you say, "Not well read," you say.
"It's all bullshit anyway, and how much does it pay?"
"Keep trying," you say. "Try reading James Michener,
and hey, did you know Jimmy Buffet writes poems, too?"
You're waiting for an answer but I
don't give one away.
You turn and leave, dragging your bad right leg
behind you, and I know
that you will pause...
before you slam the door.