Make A List

My mother wants me to get my act together. You know, finances and a cute part-time job.

I tried to get through. “The week before you came home, I found it useful to sleep on the floor to get my focus back. You know, monastic.”

She twisted her eyes. How weird I am.

“Just make a list,” she told me, “with the pros and cons.”

I chuckled a bit. Any reader of this blog knows that my problem isn’t that I don’t consider my options.

My problem is, as I told her, getting something done without stirring up too much shit. Heck, my sister is into me being silent about the speeding ticket; best not to stir the shit.

This leaves me quite divided, and my parents quite ignorant; through their own choice, of course. My mother says that as she sits in her recliner, she realizes she hasn’t done much to succeed.

“Well, time to change!” I said. That snarky look again.

“The problem is that your mother told you you were nothing but a failure, and you decided to believe her.”

“Maybe that’s true,” she replied, “but it’s too late.”

Is it too late to believe your kid isn’t really a loser, even if you think that you are?

I don’t know. I’ll just make a list.

And hit myself in the head.

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