I’ve told people that I’m already dead. No sense of self. No personality. Nothing but kid stuff in the morning, kid stuff in the evening, kid stuff on the weekends, and an unending thread of errands like laundry or waiting for a guy to come fix my laundry machine. Can’t even be a real professional cause I’m always home with sick kids or too tired to bust ass from always working so hard on bullshit errands that I don’t care about. I really should have just kept playing music, drinking, fighting, and fucking until I died an early death. But last night I held a puke bucket all night and this morning I cleaned up shitwater when my son clogged the toilet.