Monologues of the Dating Divorcee Working Mother - "Zombie"

Monologues of the Dating Divorcee Working Mother

(aka: The Life of a
Quasi-Single Mother)

(DISCLAIMER: I do not mean to offend anyone. There are different strokes for different folks, and we all have different lives, goals, aspirations. What I write about in these posts is not meant to be the "only way", "the right way", "better than you". It's just my opinion, use it where you can. Comment or Criticize too, how else do we grow as people, if we don't listen to a little criticism?)

"ZOMBIE"

Yep.

You're right.

I'm about to tell you that I'm actually a zombie, and this is what I look like.

**GIGGLES**

Not so much.

I'm about to make a really weird bridge between

Working Single (in my case, Quasi-Single) Mothers

and

ZOMBIES.

(be prepared to be amazed)

If you wake up as soon as the first glimpse of morning sunshine peaks through a crack in your blinds,

you are not a working single mother, you are a ZOMBIE.

If you limp around the house, your eyes barely open, preparing lunches, folding laundry, and whatever your subconscious remembers to be previously forgotten from the night before:
you are not a working single mother, you are a ZOMBIE.

 

If you get in the car, drop your kid off at latchkey, and then get on the highway checking your backseat to see if he got inside the school...

you are not a working single mother, you are a ZOMBIE.

Once you've established that you are zomkid free, if you proceed to make it to work, and not remember any of the drive (even with the crazy girl you carpool with yabbering the entire time.)

you are not a working single mother, you are a ZOMBIE.

You park.

You go inside your job.

It's still 30 minutes until you have to start.

If you begin autopilotting your work...

you are not a working single mother, you are a ZOMBIE.

If you get to lunch, and the only thing you remember if the grunting and bitchery of your morning.

you are not a working single mother, you are a ZOMBIE.

When you finish lunch, and go back to your desk:

If you rather pluck out your toenails or stare at the ceiling for 3 hours.

you are not a working single mother, you are a ZOMBIE.

If you make it home, the same way you got to work.

And don't recall it.

you are not a working single mother, you are a ZOMBIE.

And the final eerie similarity:

If you look at raw meat and think
"I rather eat this, than actually cook it"

you are not

an exhausted 

working single mother

YOU ARE A ZOMBIE.

Happy Friday!