Phone rings, I answer…
Me: Hey Lady, how are you?
Miss Flighty: I’m good. You?
Me: I’m good. I joined a gym last night.
Miss Flighty: Oh, really? I thought you were joking on FB.
Me: Nope, it’s real.
Miss Flighty: That’s good. Who’s paying for it?
Me: …me. [Because that is totally your business]
Miss Flighty: Oh, that’s right. You’re on that disability. You’re livin’ the good life, not having to work and stuff.
No. Unfortunately, I am not making this up. Maybe she and I can trade lives since she thinks mine is so grand. I can be the single mom working my ass off, lying to Medicaid to keep my daughter covered, and applying for food stamps while she can be Bipolar. Because obviously these are the lives we envisioned for ourselves when we were kickin’ it together 17 years ago. Yes, Bipolar disorder is so much more rewarding than being a mother. You don’t know what you’re missing.