“Crunch, Crunch, Crunch, Crunch.” Crunch, crunch, crunch.” As my hand hits the bottom of the newly opened “party size” bag of Chili Cheese Fritos, and there’s nothing there except crumbs…I know I’ve hit rock bottom. How have I watched 11 episodes, in a row, of “The Real Ratchet Wives of Rhode Island?!” I don’t even like this show!! Really. I mean, it’s entertaining in a train wreck sort of way, but I know better than to waste my time like this. I have to admit though; I like some of the outfits that the women wear. Well, just the ones where the whole boob isn’t showing. I mean some of the side cleavage ones are ok, a little more subtle, but I wouldn’t wear them. In fairness, they all usually look pretty cute. It’s amazing what a little weave and an eyebrow kit can do for a person. And lashes…and Spanx…and a cosmetic surgery budget. Nonetheless, these ladies genuinely clean up well. They all seem like beautiful “Debutantes” until they start pulling each other’s hair out and ripping buttons off blouses.
Geez! Who am I? Listen, I don’t particularly pride myself on watching self-obsessed women with “daddy issues” fistfight on national tv. It’s not exactly wholesome entertainment, but I like to keep a pulse on what’s going on in the culture. You know, just to be able to stay apart of the conversation. Otherwise, I wouldn’t watch. Trust me, there’s plenty of things that need my time and attention. I’ve been struggling with “mommy brain” lately, and with my husband out-of-town and the kids in bed, I genuinely set out tonight to do something to exercise my brain. I got out my laptop in search of the best method to memorize the periodic table, or chart…or is it a table? I’m pretty sure it’s a table, but I’ll have to google that seeing as its been a minute since I’ve looked at it. Either way, I set out to reacquaint myself with it so that I can stay ahead of my 6-year-old. She is fast approaching the first grade and yet may secretly be some “Benjamin Button” type human with wisdom and knowledge more vast than her mother. Well, the next thing I know, I’ve strayed from my periodic table search, and I’m clicking on JETPIX just to check to see if they’ve posted season 23 of “Ratchet Wives.” I’d been with the kids, by myself all week, and figured I could watch one episode, as a little reward. I’d watch one and get straight back to the periodic table (or chart), but I got sucked in. If episode one hadn’t ended with Eduardo leaving Clinqua for Valerie, I would have never gotten so caught up. The whole situation was so, well… ratchet. Sigh.
But these Chili Cheese Fritos…how did THAT happen? Surely this bag isn’t correctly labeled ?! I swear on my life that this “Party” size felt more like a “Few Friends Over” size. Health nuts are making everything smaller. There’s no way I ate that many chips. Surely I’d be sick. Right? Let me see, “500 calories per serving, 16 servings per bag…” Holy crap! The food industry should be ashamed of themselves. I’ve been meaning to watch that JETPIX documentary that uncovers the scandals of the food industry called, “Food Truth.” God, if I had watched that instead of “Ratchet Wives of Rhode Island,” there is no way I would have eaten a week’s worth of calories in one sitting. Geez! I’m out of control. How does this always happen?? I guess since I’ve ruined my calorie count, I’ll have to start all the way over on my “Forever Fit” training program with professional trainer Betty Body. God, I’ve literally done week 1 of this program 13 times. I’ve got to make it to week 2, or I’ll never have a chance at seeing my abs; which Betty says will come week 12. If I never finish this workout plan, I’m just going to have to work it off once I’m an eligible weight to be a contestant on the Biggest Loser.
I could just cry. Here I am again down this Alice in Wonderland Crazy Hole. It’s 3am on a week that I swore I’d get more sleep, and my three-year-old will be up in 3 hours. And 3 hours of sleep, while my husband is out of town, means episodes of “Chimpy the Green Gorilla” will be babysitting the kids while I sneak in naps. Total mom fail. God, not to mention that Betty Body says I need 8 hours of sleep a night in order for “Forever Fit” to really work. This is so sad. I’ll never be in shape or smarter than my 6-year-old. I’m going to end up fat, dumb, exhausted and ratchet because this is how I use the precious time God has given me.
I guess the bottom line is that I should have married a man with no teeth. All those years of riding the city bus gave me ample proposals and opportunities to make that a reality and I let it slip away. I mean, obviously I don’t WANT a husband with no teeth. Of course, if my husband’s teeth fell out I’d totally stay with him, but the point is that my husband is too perfect and some days I can’t handle the pressure. I married the definition of “tall, dark and handsome” ambitious and disciplined with a mouth full of white teeth. Now I feel like I have to BE somebody. And the somebody he deserves is not overweight, overtired and over saturated with trash tv and Fritos. I need to get up off this couch, dust this mound of crumbs off of my chest and onto my floor, that desperately needs a vacuuming, and go to bed. I’m going to go get my “Stress Be Gone,” “Eternal Peace,” and “Deeper Sleep Than you Deserve” essential oils. I’m going to rub them in every spot that won’t burn and call it a night. This day was a total fail, and tomorrow may be as well since I’ll be sleep deprived. But since I ate a bag of Fritos, I might as well finish that gallon of ice cream in the freezer. Yep, I’ll finish that tomorrow, and polish off those “S’more-eos” so that there’ll be nothing left in the house to tempt me when I restart “Forever Fit” on Monday. Monday…that’s my day…the day I’ll become the perfect wife, mother, and all around amazing woman. I’ll be the Christ- centered, urban version of Cinderella who can sing with the birds and mice in the midst of catastrophe! Nothing will stop me this time. And to make sure of that, I’m also going to finish the last four episodes of Ratchet Wives, season 23, as to take that stumbling block off the table. Wasting my life tonight would have been for nothing if I never find out if Valerie awakes from the coma that Cliniqua put her in. Damn shame how they let Eduardo come between their friendship. Yep, Monday. That’s my day.
Anybody else makin’ excuses and procrastinating? Let me know in the comments so that I don’t feel bad. Not that this is my story or anything…