Not a morning poem at all / by Christina Rosalie

So. I think my short-term memory and my general ability to hold my shit together may be forever altered by the permanent lack of sleep that has become a fixture in my life, post babies. Exhibit A:Last week I left my cell phone on the roof of my car and drove away. I watched as it flew off and did a lovely flip in the air before landing on the road behind me. I pulled to the side, cursing, with Bean wide eyed in the back seat, and threw on my emergency blinkers (do they have some other word? I'm sure they do, but I cannot remember it. See--shit has been lost, people.) I then dashed back to retrieve it, hoping that at the worst it would be scratched but still functional. But of course, it landed in the effing middle of the road and an SUV ran it over just before I was able to dash out into two-way traffic to rescue it. SMASHED beyond repair.

Bean kept muttering, "This is terrible. This is soo terrible." All the way home.

Maybe this happens to everyone, and perhaps it is what some people gently refer to as GETTING OLD, but I'm only THIRTY ONE, people, and I and should have more of a capacity to remember things and generally keep my shit together than I have recently demonstrated.

Exhibit B: This morning I put my coffee cup on the roof of my car.

You'd think I would have learned, right?

Nooo. I drove off in oblivion only to slam on the breaks and come to a lurching stop at the bottom of our rather steep driveway as my coffee cup hurtled down my windshield. What the eff? Then I had to listen to Bean mutter about how his view was ruined by my frozen coffee splattered across his window.

It's a little bit more than my view that's been affected, BUDDY.

Exhibit C: While I remembered HIS jacket and hat and mittens for school this morning, I somehow managed to leave the house without so much as a vest, and it was COLD this morning. As in the first frost of the season happened last night. This situation was then made worse when I went to buy bagels and proceeded to spill the entire contents of the worst latte of my life (from here--don't ask me why I even ordered one!) onto my lap.

Cold? Check. Wet? Check. Shit completely lost? CHECK.

Please tell me this changes. Please.