It's been a particularly grueling week. Sweeping procedural changes with little-to-no communication nor foresight at work. Contractors popping in and out (FYI: It takes one person to screw in the light, a different person to put the baseboards on, yet another to install the underlay, and so on and so forth. I haven't seen the carpet guy yet...) AND get this...they cashed my rent cheque. Oh.yes.they.did. I am livid (and I'm so ridiculously passive...I know I won't ask for compensation for my 'inconvenience') I haven't seen Q since Tuesday and I miss him like a piece of me is missing. I alternate between guilt for not seeing him enough, sadness for missing him so darn much, and anger that I have to work full time instead of being with him. Throw PMS into the mix and I am a sobbing, hormonal mess.
So, what did I do to escape the madness? What does anyone do...I bought a lottery ticket. For 20 million dollars. Let me say that again...twenty million dollars. It has become the dream that I dream for approximately 8 hours a day. Suddenly, I'm not a disgruntled postal worker, I'm a millionaire...nay, a multi-millionaire. I have a 'financial advisor' and a 'maid' and not only do I have a pool boy, I also have a pool for him to clean! (I'm just giddy with excitement!!) I have a house in White Rock on the Ocean, and a vacation property in Hawaii. I think I will have one in London too. Oh, and New York. No, Miami. No, New York. Oh, what the hey...New York and Miami, it is! But I wouldn't be living in a basement suite, that's for darn-tootin' sure.
When I am not travelling or being massaged or manicured or supervising my pool boy (again, giddy!!) I am sitting on the boards of many non-profit charities - Children and Postpartum depression are closest to my heart. I will throw fund raising galas and silent auctions and fashion shows, and maybe even open up a girls school in Rwanda. I'd adopt babies from China and Romania and South Korea! I will walk into little boutiques and say, "Oh, hello! I'm a multi-millionaire, and I'm throwing a little soiree for my millionaire friends. What should I wear?" I can't even imagine showing up at my mom's door with a realtor and saying, "Hi Mom, this is Debbie. Debbie is a realtor. Let's go buy you a house today!!"
I'd spend my days with Q. We'd go to the beach and the aquarium and Science World and we'd ride bikes and just hang out!! I'd have the chef bake him homemade cookies and pies and hot cocoa. I'd get to read him stories, tuck him in, and put him to bed every night. I'd drop him off at school and pick him up. He wouldn't cry when I dropped him off, because he'd know I'd be there waiting to pick him up. I wouldn't have to say good night on the phone every night. I wouldn't have to hear about his day, every day, on the phone. My heart wouldn't ache every time he says he misses me. We'd travel and I'd show him the world. It would just be heaven. It would be bliss. It would be fabulous.
I think I paid $2 for the ticket. And I know I won't win twenty million dollars, I mean I never win anything. Ever. I think I won a teddy bear in elementary school, only I didn't actually win it. My teacher gave it to me because she felt so horrible that I didn't win anything. But $2 is a very small price to pay for an amazing day dream, an escape. And you know, I could go without the properties in New York and Miami. I could even go without the pool boy. Time with my boy, that's all I really, really want.
awww. this post broke my heart. it makes me want to fly to vancouver for a week and do your job so you can just hang out with q. being a mom is *such* a hard job... constantly splits us in a million pieces. you're doing a good job... and the good news is that q WANTS to hang out with you!!!!! ~lisa
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