Watching my Buckeyes do what they do at my friend Maxs house. Though Max and I are the same age, our lives are very different. He does something with mortgages Ive never fully understood, even the word itself, owns a beautiful home in Santa Monica and will be welcoming his third child in March. Maxs house is very nice and clean, a trip to the guest bathroom is an experience in modern luxury. His wife Sandra doesnt particularly care for me, which I understand, we have little in common and I am by default direct competition for Maxs attention, which I can by default easily get as with me its all fun and games for Max, a sort of alternate reality void of responsibility. At times the tension feels a little over the top as Max and I only hang out once or twice a year as were both so busy with our lives, but I get how mine might look like I blow bubbles in the park in a snuggie all day from an outsider perspective. And I do kinda look like a mop thats up to no good. Which of course isnt true. All that combined with the anxiety of motherhood makes me empathize with Sandras death glare/wish. Watching my Buckeyes do what they do at my friend Maxs house.
Posted on: Tue, 13 Jan 2015 04:13:49 +0000
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