Some days I want to be selfish. I want to be alone. I want to go do something that I want to do, and not drag along two vocal children and a whining husband. I want to go do something that I want to do and not have to worry about getting back home to my husband and children in time to cook them dinner. I want to not be responsible to anyone at all. I want to go to the midnight showing of the Andy Warhol film festival and then go to my friend's house afterwards and smoke a bunch of pot and crash on her couch. I want to walk out my door with a full pack of cigarettes and come home with an empty pack and sore lungs. Some days I want to walk away from my life, freeze it and come back later when I'm ready to cuddle and kiss and cook and nurture and make love and I have gotten my bad girl back in her cage again, for another few months. Some days.
Krista
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