I know if you don't have children or if you've decided to ignore your children or pass them off on grandparents or someone, that you probably have a restful weekend planned. Maybe a little Home Depot and a long luxurious workout or brunch without short people having domestic altercations over dress down day at school or sleeping in past 7 am.
I, of course, will be up and ready tomorrow for things like crew and soccer and basketball and two musicals and lots of complaining and demands to be fed meals.
The last thing, the meals, that's the one that really gets me. I cannot remember the last time I haven't somehow prepared or orchestrated a meal. I don't even like to eat anymore as a result. Today, I had a yogurt and ramen noodles because I just couldn't face washing off some tomatoes for a salad. I don't know why this is.
I also don't know why I am going on about nonsense, when, today I received a letter in the mail that said my sister is dead.
And I feel nothing.
Well, nothing isn't really true. I feel something adjacent to nothing. I've been estranged from my sister forever. She is a con artist--like the type who would con a pastor into conning her father into sending him money or the type who marries a veteran for his pension or the type who steals from her stepmother to buy her little sister a birthday gift.
That little sister worshiped her.
Now that little sister is stuck wondering if this is another con. And if it is not, does she even claim her sister's body?
How fucked up is that?
I cannot think about all that.
So instead, I'll think about meals and sports schedules and how to break up sibling fights over nonsensical things and pray that my three children never find themselves estranged or wondering about one another or left entirely alone to figure out what to do about their family and their family's messes.
Right, so onto what's for dinner.