Max cannot eat the spaghetti because the sauce has cheese. We spent $75 to go to this damn dinner benefitting Little League and he won't be able to partake. I can make special concessions: cook spaghetti just for him with safe sauce and bring it. But, shit.
My legs are too long and my feet are too cold and Max can't eat this food or that food and I'm sick of rejection, of J. working until he gets migraines, of my friend's husband's health not improving and of the dirt and the paperwork.
But I'm no victim. I have as much fresh water to drink as I want. A soft bed and an iphone. Health. A blue sky for today.