...wakes up every morning to her geriatric cat and his crap on the outside of his litter box.

I clean and scrub the floor, brush the litter from his fur, and feed him knowing his time to lay down for good is less than a while away.

I then go outside and feed the ghetto cats that came from the street and a builder mart parking lot. They are much more hardier than the glamorous puss known as Goose and will last years longer.

I than make my coffee in the morning and get to the phone and begin work.

In between phone calls and emails I study philosophy, ethics, and literature.

Its a good semester. I like my classes.

I am in the midst of writing a new essay for UT Austin.

Although I got in to all the schools I applied to, I could not-in the end-afford any of them.

And they were a little farther away than I want to be from my son, who is being deployed to Afghanistan in November.

All the while, I was holding out hope of meeting someone to be a shoulder I could lean on but the bullshit has me so depressed, I am beyond tears.

Liars and cynics is all I seem to run into these days and with what is on my plate, I have little patience for any of them.

Its OK, I am stubborn and it will take some time for me to kill this hope of love and commitment. I can't turn it off in a day and I know that.

The hope of love is hard to kill and the fear of my son going off to war is beyond any sadness i could have imagined.

I beg and pray to God that he will come home. He has to come back home. There is no other option.

God has to bring him home safe to me.

I am no Cinderella story and I don't feel I am even a Paul Harvey story, waiting to happen, any more. But I don;t deserve this much heartache.

I never did anything to deserve this life.

This is called depression, and it hits me every once in awhile but it will go away and even when I am sad I know I need to take care of those less fortunate than me; so I take my Jimmy Choo shoe money and feed the Bambis, the possums, the raccoons, and the stray animals that do not need to suffer as long as I am around.

And I get the great pleasure of giving my son anything of the small things I can do for him. I just wish I could have done more and then he might not have had to go off to war.

Its all I have to hold on to...

That is enough to get the Blonde up every day!!

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