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New Year. New Resolution.

Write. More.

Yes, you heard me... Why don't you write more? 

Well, its not like I have the time.  I mean don't I write already? I write for work, I write letters to my kids teachers telling them how sorry I am for their laziness, I write in my journal - but that's mostly sentimental jibberish and harsh words meant for someone who will never get to hear it.  Nope, can't do it.  I just can't find the time.

Well what are you doing right now?

Looking for stuff I don't need on Amazon of course.  Prime, you are a temptress! #damnyoujeffbezos

I've read some of your stuff.  It's not too terribly bad, and you enjoy it so much. Isn't it your therapy?  The free kind. Not the talking doctor every Thursday at 10:00 am kind.

It is a New Year.  I just got a new 2020 calendar.  I do have that resolution to write a paragraph a day....but a blog?  It seems a little cliche.  Am I not the one that tells the you tubing, insta-storying, influencers or Inter-personna-kardashianna that what they do is not work? It's vapid narcissism born from a generation that can't stop looking at themselves.  How could me blogging not be viewed as slightly hypocritical? 
(Author'sNote: Likes, views and trolls only exist if you believe in them.)  
I can't get so immersed in the blogsophere that I neglect other things... I mean can I?

Of course you can.  You need this, lady. You deserve this.  New decade, new circumstance, new you. Besides, don't you think you will find that there are more of us than you could have ever imagined?  There is strength in numbers. 

I do enjoy lamenting about my life and talking sh*& about my children and everyone else in a completely anonymous way.  You know, one that only the internet can provide.  I mean a paragraph or blogograph per day to dump all of the garbage in my head space does seem quite inviting....okay.  Let's do it!

Rules for the horrible mother blog-o-sphere
  • You can swear.  I do all the time.  I try to be considerate but sometimes a swear really   IS the perfect word.  Go forth you potty mouth.
  • If you feel you must bash me I really don't care. Like every horrible mother everywhere, I am always right so stop trying to tell me my OPINION is wrong.  It is mine and it is right. Always. Fact check me on geography if you must.  I'm really bad at it. 
  • In no way shape or form am I an experienced blogger, twitter user, snapchat user, tumblr, twich, YouTube or Insta-user -other than for pics of my kids purely so grandma's and grandpa's can see them- and of course they are using facebook @! So please, don't tell me what to do or what I'm doing wrong.  When in doubt see #2
  • Most of my entries will be stories.  Share yours back.  I meant what I said about needing to know there are more of us than them. You aren't alone. 
  • Question:  Are any of your stories true?  Answer:  Probably?  I will only ever use my own name but often times I don't. Don't google me. You'll be sad. I'm boring. I change other peoples names - sometimes just because I hate their name. Shorts and rants are either based on experience, creativity (straight up lies) or nonsense.
  • This is a safe space for you, but it also is for me.  Let's stay away from politics, wars, the economy, vaccinations (anti and pro), reality television, punctuation and grammar and any other subject that, in real life (IRL) could cause a bar fight.  I've seen some nasty semi-colon fist fights in my day.  No thank you!
  • Be kind. Be gracious. Be mindful.  Be you.  

Thanks for listening friends.

With love from, 
A Horrible Mother


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