My name is Kaitlyn.
So apparently I should talk about the day in the life of a single mom.
Well, I’m singlish. I have a live in boyfriend and a fairly decent baby daddy. So I don’t really have it all that hard. My sanity says otherwise, as it’s been tested lately… a lot.
A day in my life… I start my day off (This is a work day, right?) at 6:09, yes, :09. I wake up to let my friend in to drop off her daughter who the boyfriend and I deliver to daycare. She’s a legit single mom, much more admirable than me. I’d die if I had 2 to take care of alone, or they would die. I do love my ID Discovery channel.
Upon exiting the bed and opening my bedroom door, I’m greeted by about 25 hungry cats. Really, it’s like 4, my kittens are still on the tit…. Or it would be 10. (It’s coming) Fucking cat lady. Someone should probably sign me up for an episode of Animal Hoarders. I need an intervention. Do they make cat foodstamps?
So before I can do anything else, like, get ready for work or have coffee… I am forced to feed the heard of pussies surrounding me. These spoiled little fuckers not only get dry cat food, they get canned food twice a day. (Thank you boyfriend) I think I spend more money on feeding my cats than I do myself. Legit. I also have to feed the fish, Goldie. It’s a blue/purple beta. My weird kid named it. Goldie is almost as bad as the cats, the second I turn on the kitchen light, he’s at the bowl all frantic like a crack head having a rock dangled in front of his eyes. I think fish food stinks, I wouldn’t be that excited.
So I feed my cats and the fish, get the kid in and put her back to bed and finally, I’m allowed to shower. While I’m in the shower, meows of my cat children serenade me as my clothes are pulled under the door. (Cat lady) When I exit the bathroom, it is usually to an audience of cats, all waiting to enter the bathroom and knock every bottle of shampoo/conditioner/body wash that I have (Which is a lot-hair product hoarder) onto the floor. And if you’re one of my younger cats, cough cough Indy, you probably want to piss in my sink. Yes, piss in my sink. WTF? I should toilet train that one.
This is getting mad long and I haven’t even made it to work. I quit. I suck. Oh well…
The day in a life of a single mom is never easy. If it was, I think I’d wonder if someone slipped me some happy pills or I’d just given up on life. I feel like I am starring in the movie, Groundhog Day, but if the movie were about my life, we’d call it something with cats in the title. I can picture my DVD cover with one of those cat clocks… ugh.
Who wants to be my Facebook/Instagram friend? Cat pics yo.
I wake up and get ready for work. I ruin any chance of having a decent day by putting myself into a bad mood due to being frustrated by everything that happens to make me late for work. I go to work. Depending on the day, I do shit like this or I play on Facebook. However, on occasion, I am busy.
I leave work, go home, which is usually deterred by going to the grocery store. I believe the entire staff of Food Lion knows me personally. I actually ran into one of them at a concert recently and we hugged. Sad. I go grocery shopping a few times a week. I like to forget things. The best purchase I’ve made recently was cat food and wine. I felt like I should have worn a sign stating, “I’m not a cat lady if I’m not single”.
I’m still a cat lady. Does this make my boyfriend a cat man, or my kid a cat kid? Ha.
I go home, psychotically clean, feed the cats… again, cook if I feel up to it, do laundry, take care of the spawn and go to bed.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
TFGA- Thank God For Adderall… and wine… and hookah.
Seriously, yo.
So, while I’m sure this has been the most boring thing you’ve read. It is a day in the life of a single mom, where I don’t think I talked about my kid as much as I did my cats.
In that respect, my kid is 7. She’s my ginger spawn. I birthed her, hence her being my child. She’s a mini version of me, and she’s in cat lady training herself. She is a smart ass and I love her for that.
I remember a day when I used to blog about drunken pissing on helpless men. Like a boss. A boss that pisses on people. I’ve graduated to cats and kids. Wow.
I feel like this accomplished nothing, but don’t forget your thank you gift for reading, a free kitten.
Seriously, come get a cat. I have 10. That’s plenty. I could negotiate parting with the spawn, for a decent price.
$1.93?
Deuces.
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