What would the title of my memoir be, and why?
I feel like the “why” of this title can best be summed up by potential chapter headings comprised of things I’ve said in text messages.
1.) If I don’t answer for a bit, it’s because I’m driving home from the motherfucking store.
2.) I’d run away and join the circus, but I have no marketable circus skills. And also clowns.
3.) Yes…I ignored that little voice in the back of my head that said that person was batshit crazy. Again.
4.) Math is hard, yo.
5.) I cannot possibly people today.
6.) I’m sorry my cat hates you.
7.) Look, I just need some cheese.
8.) Is it wrong that I’m proud of my four-year-old niece for using “What the fuck” properly in a sentence?
9.) I don’t recall becoming a bigamist, but at the same, time, my brain has been nothing but cracks, lately. So…maybe?
10.) The hold music is static-y soft jazz. I am in hell.
11.) Excellent. I feel like the more people we have spreading the accelerant, the quicker it’ll be over.
12.) Filed under bad ideas: Don’t look at fabric you made your kids’ clothes out of. Especially not while you’re ovulating.
13.) I’m gonna need bail money. There’s a neighbor kid out there somewhere blowing a goddam gym whistle.
14.) But in Clue, aren’t you just supposed to murder people with the candlestick? Or are we lighting candles to celebrate afterward?
15.) I feel like we won’t be able to have our podcast if I’m in jail, though.
16.) I have zero of popsicles. And also zero of patience.
17.) Never look a gift moodswing in the mouth.
18.) I am a font of random information.
19.) Fuck that. I’m putting on my ruffle-butt undies and my ruffled bonnet. And we’re gonna go Pollyanna the fuck out of everything.
20.) ADD Powers ACTIVATE! Form of Squirrel!