For Realz

I’m actually writing a real post tonight, like, the way normal people blog. Not sure why, just not feeling the poetry tonight, I guess. 

Also, I’m on vacation. Okay, it’s not really vacation, in fact, I’ll be working the whole time, but when you have kids any trip anywhere by yourself feels like a vacation. 

I’m at a work conference in good ol’ Raleigh, North Carolina! I don’t know much about Raleigh, but it looked pretty when we were landing. Considering that the entire conference and all my meals take place on my hotel, and I don’t have a rental car, I have a feeling I won’t be seeing much of it…

The guy who shuttled me to the hotel from the airport was nice. I didn’t tip him because I never think about that shit. I got myself to worry about and that’s like five bags of clusterfuck right there.  

The guy who checked me in dropped my keycard twice, forgot to write my room number on it, and then forgot to tell me where the pool was (I always have to know where the pool is). I walked away with a smile because I told myself it’s because he thought I was hot. With a 3-year-old and an 8-year-old constantly tailing me or smearing spaghetti sauce on me or tugging at my brand new clothes, I pretty much never feel hot so I take what I can get. Don’t judge. 

Now I’m hanging in my hotel room – didn’t know you were gonna get a play-by-play, did ya? If I were single, I’d probably wander downstairs and find some stranger named Rob, Darryl, or Garret and bring him back up here. At least that’s what I think I’d do. More than likely I’d get started on that plan and then make an excuse about being tired and watch Friends with a devil’s food cake ordered from room service instead. Because I’m probably the only female alive who can fuck up fucking. As it is, my husband is way hotter and way more fun than anyone I’d find here anyways so the bar’s already set too goddamn high. I’ll just settle for a cocktail at the bar downstairs and a dip in the pool. 

Makes me think of another blogger I follow who says he hates people who are tied down. Maybe because we’re boring and we go swimming instead of having sexy time with strangers. Or maybe because we always hate what we can’t have. Grass is greener. All that truth shit I hate. 

In the meantime, this place is so QUIET!! I have a friend who stayed in hotel by herself for the first time in years a few weeks ago (yes, when you are a mom, this is a thing). She said the same thing and now I know what she meant. I used to travel for work all the time but it’s been at least a year. I forgot how nice it feels. Just me and my craaaaaaaaaaaazy mind to keep me company. If my imagination doesn’t drive me to dig a hole in the wall with a spoon, this trip will be wasted. 

Tomorrow I’ll hang out with co-workers, have a lot of fun, and pretend like life is this easy. I’ll do what I want to do when I want to do it without having to call a babysitter. I’ll miss having sex with my husband but I’ll take care of things, if ya know what I mean. I’ll probably even make some progress on one of my novels. 

Stripped is published, the sequel is about 7 chapters in, Players is completed and in the editing stage, Ruling Felix is about 80% complete, and I have two new ones just a few chapters in. I think I might have a problem. 

But first, as always, I’ve got to turn down this goddamn air conditioning. 


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