Day in, day out, since Day one, my time has been devoted to getting food on the table for the kids. Sometimes I get a chance to have the day for me but I never really savor it to the max knowing I still got to go home and tend to the house chores, tend to the supermarketing and cooking and yes, taking out the trash, not to mention tending to the husband. It's not all gloomy. I just find it better to live with something relevant. I guess I haven't felt relevant at home. No appreciation for washing the dishes or cleaning the bathroom or making sure that each day there's milk and food and water on the table.
I cheer myself up from time to time. Watch a movie, listen to songs, write my heart out, and right now, indulge in lotions given to me during Christmas. I'm melancholy because I don't have money and when one doesn't have money, it can really feel so lonesome. Like right now. If I slash my wrists and bleed silently to death inside the bathroom, I would be successful because my family wouldn't guess that I could do such a thing.
Staying alive is so hard.
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