I have reached a level of throwing in the towel, so tired of worrying about everything and everyone but me, I-just-don't-give-a-fuck-ness that I am ready to travel to a place with exactly what I need. (I wanted to capitalize "I" for emphasis but realized it already is so imagine me double capitalizing it....) I want to purchase a one-way ticket with no idea of when I might return. My current sanity is being compromised and I feel this is the only way to bring it back. I'm kind of kidding but I am kind of serious.
I have a nasty habit of doing things in my home because I know exactly how they are done, how I expect to see results, because I feel guilty if certain things are left unfinished, and really because the walls of my house could come crumbling down and I honestly think my technology-addicted family would not even fucking notice. It's got to stop.
Here a few things I do not want on my quest to regain my sanity:
*I do not want to talk to anyone. I don't want to have to make small talk, or big talk, or political talk, or fucking religion talk, plans for my kids' future talk, or money talk. Silence. Shut your God damn pie hole and leave me alone. If I DO want to talk I will have a small green disc on my beachside table that I will flip over like when I want more meat at those obnoxious Brazilian meat orgies. But if I hear the words "Jesus", "damn Republicans", or "my child just got a 36 on their ACT and was already accepted into 5 Ivy League schools" I will flip that red disc over faster than you can say Kim Kardashian's camel toe.
*I do not want to have sex or even think about it. My mind is not going to be on dicks, it's going to be on sleep and chill out and maybe not even trim my Sasquatch bikini line because who the fuck cares.
*I do not want to have to play with dogs/cats for the 5th time of the day because I feel guilty they have been ignored by everyone but me all day long.
*I don't want to have family members fib and tell me the dogs have been taken out when I know the exact way I put their leashes in the drawer and they are still that way. There is also piss and shit under the dining room table that tells a different story.
*I don't want to be questioned about "What did I DO all day?" when something someone else needs doesn't get done. I did a LOT. And on this trip if I literally want to eat, sleep, and shit and nothing else, I'm doing it.
*I don't want to see a single eye roll from a teen or pre-teen for me asking to turn the volume down on TV, music, phones, Vines, Snapchats, Tweets, twats, or whatever loud-ass device that is currently annoying the shit out of me.
*I don't want to worry about carbs or gluten or drinking diet soda or eating 10 pounds of Reeses Peanut Butter Cups washed down with Nutella straight from the jar. I also don't want to read on Facebook how I will grow cancerous tumors and go on a killing spree from having a mother fucking Fresca now and then. Because Fresca rocks. There is no Whole Foods bullshit organic substitute. Period. The end.
*I don't want to drive any kids all over hell and back for sleepovers and movies and mall trips and pool time and dance class because it's summer and my kids are "bored" and my kid would be the "only one who's not there". Suck it. Go outside and fucking find some friends and play in the woods and drink water from a hose. I did it and my summers were fun as hell.
*I don't want to pick up piles of wet towels and dirty thongs and 48 pairs of shoes because the other members go my house could literally step over the same shit for weeks and not even care.
*I don't want to hear about the things I DIDN'T buy from the grocery store even though I've been there twice this week and spent $475. Go eat a dirty thong, there are plenty to choose from on your bedroom floor.
Here are some things I would like:
*I want to sit on a beach with sand in between my toes, a nice cold drink in my hand, an awesome book to read, and a pillow to nap if I so fucking choose.
*I want to be told how stunningly beautiful I am every single day even if it's by a gay pool boy named Juan.
*I want the bed to made perfectly with the sheets pulled tightly to the top, no lumpy blankets half-assed wadded like a dead cat under the bedspread, and ALL the pillows placed in their proper places EVERY GOD DAMN MORNING by someone other than me. Just because I like it that way and it makes me happy.
*I want to bask in the sun and just recline in a kick-ass beach chair without kids, pets, or husbands whining and asking me to do something for them. This is MY island, go the fuck back to House of Crusty Thongs.
*I want breakfast prepared for me that I get to eat FIRST without worrying about everyone else first, with awesome coffee and an awesome view. This view should not include skinny-ass bitches with perfect bodies in their "Cross Fit" or "I Heart Hot Yoga" or "Ask Me About Beachbody" tank tops. It's time for breakfast, chill the fuck out. It's Sanity Island, not INSANITY Island. I also do not want to see hairy, fat men or toddlers wearing a diaper with no pants, screaming bloody murder. You are not welcome on this island.
*I want fresh flowers in my room every day with notes that read "Just because you are awesome!" or "For all that you do---thank you!" or "You look so sexy eating that Nutella straight from the jar at the beach!" You get the idea. Like tropical flowers that cost a shit ton of money. I'm going all Oprah on this island, fuck it.
*I want towel animals in silly places made by someone who knows how to fold fucking towels better than me. Also perhaps my name or inspirational quotes spelled out on my perfectly made bed or the foyer of my giant suite in rose petals or chocolates or even diamonds.
*I want my TV to have only the channels I would like to watch available daily. No bullshit Spanish channels, no sports of any kind, no Game of Thrones, no Nickelodeon/Disney/any movie or show with the voice of Ashley Tisdale, no depressing ass news, no politics, no religion, no lesbian porn. I want TLC chock full of The Little Couple, 19 Kids and Counting, Hoarders, Little People, Big World, Breaking Amish, and Here Comes Honey Boo Boo. Maybe throw in Food TV as long as it's not Giada DeLaurentis having an orgasm as she eats her own food with her tits hanging out.
*I want a giant shower with luxurious body products and 100 shower heads. And a bench. And another TV where I can watch The Little Couple. Maybe some sort of a Patron tequila fountain to sip from. Yes, in my giant shower.
*I don't want to have to feel the need to buy souvenirs or memoirs for anyone who isn't with me, enjoying this bliss. Why? Because this is all about ME. For once time in my life...ME! ME! ME!
One ticket, one way, who the hell knows when (if) I will come back.
Now kindly shut the hell up because as you see my disc is RED and you are blocking my sun, asshole.
