Dear Mom,
How have you been? I’m sorry I haven’t written in a couple months. I miss you lots, I promise not to go so long next time.
Work sucks, per usual. I spend 10 hours a day schlepping my tired ass up and down the memory ward. Get home, microwave some slop, choke it down, sleep, wake up, shower, back to work. I don’t know how I’m going to do this another 30 years. I kinda look forward to being put out of a job by one of those Japanese caretaker bots.
How did you manage to work two jobs while raising two kids? You’re really a superhero. I remember when you’d get off work at Hehr and you looked so tired, but you always took me somewhere fun. You must have been exhausted for decades. You gave us so much, so many opportunities, and it cost you so many years of busting your ass. I never properly thanked you - so - thank you.
I wonder if things have always been this way. I hate the idea that we’re just born to build a pyramid for a pharaoh or make money for a CEO. I just want to sing karaoke and drink mai tais, instead I have to work all damned day. I guess things could be worse.
Evander is good, we’re celebrating nine years together in October. He got promoted! He’s some kind of liason between the call center and the client, I don’t understand exactly what his place is in the hierarchy now, but I know he’s just a few steps down from the site president or whatever the boss’ title is.
The kids are so smart! Alie has met the academic milestones for a six-year-old at only five, and our sweet boy is learning so much from her. I talked to Dad the other day. We have been spotty about keeping in touch, and we usually just bullshit about musician stuff on the rare occasion we chat. He has diabetes now. He insists on treating it with homeopathic garbage.
Do you remember Tom? He finally got married and moved to Oregon. He hates it there, says it’s like an ocean of fentanyl with small islands of civilization. I don’t know if he’s exaggerating for effect or if it really is that bad, but I’m glad I don’t live there.
Bob passed away. He had cancer and it spread quickly, Sarah was devastated. We attended the service, she tried to say her peace but couldn’t make it through without sobbing.
What else… we got a dog, we named him Mochi. He’s a King Charles but we didn’t pay a lot since he was a runt. Cute little guy, his fur mats easily though, so we brush him a lot.
That’s pretty much everything since I last wrote you. Oh! I’m glad to say the Silverwood Killer got his fucking ass beat and stabbed by some other inmates in Tehachapi. I plan to come see you again in June, I’ll bring some CLR for the buildup on your headstone.
I love you,
Elle