stoned out housewife,

that's me. mostly i write about life instead of live it.

days when the reality of the everyday hit, it becomes a melancholy time. bored by the tediousness of the mundane act of doing the laundry, washing the bathtub. these are the days that drag. hot humid weather and no air conditioning don't help.

there is a tiny voice singing from down the hall. wrapped up in her daddy's arms, reading brown bear before nite-nite. and that sound, sweet and determined, breaks the moment.

i can't help but smile.