In Media Res...

So, the Cubs win the World Series and I spend the morning doing what I normally do while my 4 year old binges on Angry Birds cartoons on Netflix.  I scour Facebook for things that make me cry.

My 6 year old couldn't find her fucking shoes this morning. 2 minutes before the bus.  This is a constant battle.  One that I thought to abate by instituting a "Take off your shoes and put them where they belong"(a giant pile by the front door) immediately upon entering the house policy.  This works MAYBE 80% of the time.  Because seriously.  There are two goddamned pairs of boots missing.  And god FORBID my daughter wear any of the other 50 pairs of shoes she has.  Seriously.  So many shoes.  Both of my kids.  And they both INSIST upon wearing the rattiest, punch in the face smelliest pairs they own.  You think little boys are gross?  Yeah.  No.  Little girls are just as disgusting.

Some days I look around me and I just say "what in the actual fuck? No.  Seriously.  What in the actual fuck is happening?"  I don't really have an answer.  Just more laundry to do.  And lines to memorize for a class that is kicking my ass in its access to all the things that terrify me about everything.  Failure, exposure, fear, love, more failure, unworthiness.  Luckily this is a scene about a woman begging a man to marry her because she's getting older and it's the 50's and she might or might not have been giving him blowies in the back of a car after getting drunk in the front yard of the boarding house she "lives" in.  You know.  Kids' stuff.

I got a random email from the DePaul MFA admissions department asking me to let them know when I'm ready to apply.  I may have clicked a "more info " button at one point in the past?? This didn't look like a random ad.  So weird though as I contemplate what folks have suggested ... Change direction.  Change Bats.  But don't lose hope.  Keep fighting.  Is this some kind of a sign?  Do I believe in signs?  Maybe.

I'm full of coffee, full of CUBS WIN, and not even close to bracing myself for what's to come.