Lately, I have been wishing for a time machine so I could go back to high school. You know, before real life started. High school is Limbo Land. Your old enough to drive, but still young enough that you don't have to pay for your own shit. I worked to cover my pot and liquor habit. My clothes and food were covered by the folks. My car was a hand me up from my aunt and uncle, the insurance was covered by the parents, and it only cost $10 to fill that mother up and it lasted 2 weeks.
It was also a time before 3 children turned my stomach into a jelly roll. I had a smoken' body. I'm only 5'2" and I only weighed about 95 pounds (100 lbs. during "that time of the month"). I could wear Levi's with a 26" waist. Wearing my tennis skirt around campus wasn't a total embarrassment. I actually cared about what I looked like and took time to straighten my hair almost daily. I wore make-up.
I worked at Payless Shoe Source. I got paid every Thursday. During my lunch break/independent study class at school, I would pick up my paycheck, head to my dealers house and then smoke. Awesome. Sometimes I would pick up Absolute Citron vodka, buy a large Pepsi, dump in some vodka and head back to school for CWP. We watched the news everyday. That was it. I was stoned and buzzing almost every day and still got an A in the class. Bonus.
I got my Nordstroms and Bon Marche card in high school, and it only took 1 month to max those fuckers out. But with minimum payments only being $10 a piece, I could totally make the payments. I had awesome clothes that my parents would never buy me. My dad was not buying me mini skirts or body suits (yes, I said body suits. It was 1995. Give me a fucking break). The parents bought the staples: jeans, t-shirts, shoes, dresses, and undergarments. Plus the 3 formal dresses and accessories a year. They paid to get my hair lightened or darkened, professionally straightened and then repaired. They paid the sports fees and bought the outfits.
I never worried about insurance. If my stomach hurt, my mom would call the doctor and pick me up to go to the doctor. I didn't know or care about what they went through to take me to the doctor. I didn't care if a procedure wasn't covered by insurance. I wasn't the one who had to fight with those bloodsucking fuckers over a denied claim. When I had heart testing every year for 2 weeks up in Seattle, I saw it as 2 weeks off of school, not 2 weeks off of work.
My weekends were spent sleeping in and partying. No one woke me up to turn on the t.v., no one cared if I cleaned my room. I just had to shut the door when I left the house. I had a t.v., VCR, stereo, and my own phone in my room. I was the only person on the first floor of our 3500 square foot house, making it totally possible to sneak out and not be heard. The family room door was under our work out room, so my parents never heard me leave or stumble in drunk.
The only meal I had to worry about was breakfast, and that I got at the school vending machines (M&M's with orange juice every day). Lunch was spent at home since we had open campus and we lived 2 blocks from school unless it was Thursday. Dinner was at 6:00 and always yummy. On nights that I worked, I kissed ass to the people who ran a hamburger joint in the mall and usually got dinner for free. Score.
My biggest pain in the ass was my twin brothers. Those fuckers truly thought I was their taxi cab. I would charge them $5 for every ride. I totally made bank off of them, and they had no choice but to pay up. Suckers.
Anyway, today was a day I wish I could have lit a joint and passed the day watching Beavis and Butthead. I just felt like I needed a day that wasn't controlled by a 4 and 5 year old, Cartoon Network, Disney Channel, Nickelodeon, meal times, bath time, and fighting about cleaning up rooms.
Have a great Tuesday night folks. I think I am going to make a Kahlua milkshake, watch Family Guy, and lock myself in my room.