As I lay in my bed last evening, curled in a ball and silently crying I began thinking about what is missing in my life. Since Sunday evening I have been sick as fuck--fevers, congestion, headaches, and severe back and body aches--and in terrible need of some TLC. But when God was handing out compassion, the men in my life must have been in the line to get their black, black hearts. Is there anyone to mother the mother? I have found that there is not as I lay suffering in this house of testosterone and tears. So today I decided that what I am missing is a good woman. A woman who loves me and will take care of me. My mom used to take good care of me but ever since I had kids of my own she hasn't been as sympathetic. Also she is a germaphobe. When I am sick it's never, "Oh poor baby" now it is "Don't give it to me!" Damn, old people are selfish! So I find that to get what I really need I will have to go gay.
REALITY--I lay in my dark room for hours with no one coming to check on me. I muster up the energy to yell out for help, again and again, but no one comes. I finally have to use my cell phone to call Alan, who is downstairs, to come check on me and bring me a drink.
FANTASY--My dream woman would be checking on me frequently and anticipating my every need--food, medicine, a cold beverage or my pillow turned so it's always on the cool side.
REALITY--Me, "I am so cold, I am shivering. Do we have any warm blankets." Alan, "No, we don't" and walks away.
FANTASY--Dream woman enters the room, feels my head and says,"Oh, you have a fever you poor thing. Let me get you some warm blankets and tuck them right around you. Later I will draw you a warm bath."
REALITY--My mom comes over to drive me to the doctor while my dad watches the kids. The doctor is an ass and tells me I have an unresolved sinus infection with probable asthma. I think I have the flu but he won't test me. Also I never had asthma until I started seeing you, Dr. Prick with Nice Hair. When I come home both kids are running wild outside and my dad is mad at Sage for not minding and Sage says it's because Papa called his bike a "midget bike." And Sage and Shepard cry as I ground them and send them both to their room. I'm not really that mad at them but I ground them just so I can get some rest.
FANTASY--Dream woman goes to the pharmacy and fills my prescription. She gets me back in bed and puts the kids to work cleaning their room as she sings a happy tune to make it fun for them.
REALITY--The kids are fighting and not letting me rest. I think I snapped because next thing I know I am shrieking like a hell beast on the phone with Alan. I am pretty sure I threatened his life and the life of his boss if he doesn't work from home tomorrow. And I might have said something about shoving things up their assess or down their throats--I can't remember. Alan does agree to come home but then he says, "What are we doing for dinner?" I hear the shrieking again and realize it is coming from me as I reach through the phone and tear him a new one. That's what got me to the curled up in ball, crying stage.
FANTASY--Dream woman arranges child care so I can rest. She makes me a lovely bowl of soup and gives me medicine that tastes like rum punch.
So you can see why I really need me a good woman. Now you men don't get all worked up because the one thing I will not need her for is sex. And there are two reasons for that:
Number 1: That would be gross.
Number 2: I am a woman and I don't need sex that often. Like a camel storing water I can store up one sexual encounter in my hump (my lovely lady lump) and live off of that for weeks, nay months if I have to. And that's not a threat. It's not even a promise. That's a fact, Jack!