peevish mama

Yesterday, before my adventure with Red Vogue, I was feeling shitty. Sad and shitty. After dropping the kids off at school, I drove around the lakes boohooing and feeling sorry for myself. I called my college friend, Tartare, in Seattle and left her a pitiful, weepy voicemail, apologizing and blubbering and apologizing some more for being so pathetic. I know I sounded absolutely over the top melodramatic, but I couldn’t help myself. The tears just kept coming, pooling in the bottom of my Kanye sunglasses.

Tartare called me back and bless her heart, without a lot of verbiage and fuss, she managed to gather up all my cards that were strewn over the floor, shuffle them, cut them and set them in a neat pile in front of me. She may be far away, but her powers are mighty. Like this.