I would prefer to stay at home, but then I’ll feel guilty. Interesting how that turned 180. It used to be that I felt guilty about not being home. This is the Catholic in me, try as I might, I will not escape guilt even in a manner of pure innocence. I just want to stay home and clean the piss and shit off of toilets, vacuum dog hair, cook mac ‘n’ cheese, and wipe his butt. I want to mow the lawn, weed the garden, do the dishes, fold the laundry, make the bed, and get the mail. I wake up early in the morning so I can be selfish and grade papers from the math class I teach, and be completely self-absorbed by busting through a master’s degree. I open my arms and smile at a filthy microwave that needs to be soaped down and a kitchen floor…
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