My Yellow Bag

Funny thing, personal happiness.
Some find it in a walk or a hug.

Some find it in the person lying next to them at night or in the dog that sleeps at their feet.
Me, lately, I’ll take it any way I can get it.
A few weeks ago, I thought I had found it. My small piece of happiness…

hanging just there… from a metal rack, illuminated by florescent lighting.
Oh sweet yellow bag!

How I love you. (Well, it was you or your lime green twin.)
Decisions, decisions!
Jacob made it easy for me. He chose yellow.

Sweet baby boy.

He IS my true happiness.
I just wonder how long I’ll be able to take him along purse shopping…

The Two Yous

Jekyll and Hide.

Now that's a thought. When is the last time you thought of anyone in your life in such a way? Have you thought of yourself this way?


I must admit that I have on occasion.


There is the mother who loves her son and husband. Goes to work and does a good job. Cares about the world in general.



Then there's the big pile of shit that I sometimes feel like.



It's not that I always get to this place by myself. No, sometimes, I have help. You see, My husband is also a pile of shit sometimes. There is something to be said for a man to be able to make his wife want to kill herself. But hey, just apart of the job. Right?

So that's me today.

Not that I would (probably) do anything to myself. I have my son to take care of and watch after. It's just that sometimes I wish I were dead. Maybe, invisible, would be less permanent.

Yes, I wish I could be invisible sometimes.