UGH

 We spent the entire day yesterday, my only free Saturday in years, cleaning up the yard and mopping the floors.
   Two hours after beginning to vacuum and mop, I sat down with a cup of coffee and  said "Maids are good, can we afford a maid?"
   Later, as I was knee deep in pine needles and dog poo, I shouted at Jim "Aren't there pooper scoopers we can hire?"
  Thus we arrive at the core of our issue, which is that kryssi cannot keep up with three dogs and five cats and two children.
   They aren't my cats, or my dogs, but they are my children. And the animals are owned by the children.
   Welcome to Colorado, where nobody can afford to move out. Technically, we should be empty nesters. Both girls have post secondary diplomas, both are functioning at jobs. They work at jobs that don't pay enough to keep up with the skyrocketing rents, even down in Durango, Genoa has to stay on a friend's couch. If I had known legalizing pot would rob me of my Empty Nester years, I would definitely have voted NO.
    But I foolishly voted my conscience and my heart, believing it's silly to have made pot illegal in the first place. I didn't even care that they told us that legalizing it would benefit schools, that the public schools would get pot money. If you figure that in, then I've been duped TWICE, because I teach public school and we've seen nothing that indicates we received any pot money. Or teacher raises. Which are not connected, pot money was never promised as teacher wages, that was for students: books, roofs that don't leak, etc. I'm saying that neither appeared, which is insanity when you gauge the way our cost of living expenses exploded.
    We did receive increased rents, a rush to build in open spaces, overcrowded roads, Asshats clogging up the hiking trails, Rudes actually damaging and defacing our beloved nature and a frightening increase in the homeless population. So we've got that going for us.
    So, my yard is trashed, my house is filled and difficult to keep up, but hey, I can sit in the mess and blaze up and pretend it's all fine.
     It's a shame I don't smoke pot.
     My preferred depressant is alcohol. Specifically a craft amber which is my weekly intake of allowed calories.
     I actually don't make enough money, as a public school teacher, to hire a maid or a pooper scooper. I do make enough to sit at the pub on Friday night and down a few ambers whilst listening to my dad mumble his way through vague explanations.  For example, this week's installment is about why my 70-Banana year old father has a roommate in his tiny, one bedroom trailer. I simply asked "How'd you end up with this guy as a roommate?" His entire answer is below.
           "Well, you remember Pat and Dave (*names changed), well Pat died and her daughter lives out here and they have a fifth wheel. So he had the fifth wheel but it needed to be fixed, so he's going to be here until June, now, I guess he rolls his eyes. I thought he'd be gone by now, but he can still put in your floor if you want him to,he's waiting on the fifth wheel. He said the divorce was final but then yesterday he said he had to sign some paperwork so I don't know what. He's from Portugal, I guess he's not legal or something I don't know."
       At this point, I stop him. "Dad. Why Is He Living With You? Who is he to you? He's not related to us."
             "He was married to Pat's daughter, he's from Portugal. I guess they got divorced and he had the fifth wheel, but it broke down."
     Sadly, I am able to piece together exactly what he means and I just nod and drink my amber.
     This is what I look forward to becoming. Super excited. I already forget names and leave my phone and occasionally begin a sentence in my head and finish it on facebook. I am an amateur compared to my dad.
 
      And so, in conclusion, all in all, to sum up. Stop Moving Here. You're hurting us. Clearly, as demonstrated in this post, I am fractured.
      Legalized marijuana and craft beer may be the only reasons Colorado is not in full rebellion.

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