Coming home...

I am at work, so I suppose I should be doing work, but this is important too. This is something I do for me. When I was a teenager I imagined my life at 26 and so far I have to say I am pretty disappointed. You know what I did last night? I'm ashamed to admit it. After I put my son to bed I sat at my computer playing free cell (I don't have internet so I don't get any cool games)and eating nachos. Monday night? Same thing. I don't want to wine about the single mother thing, because I love my son and know in many ways he was the best thing that could have happened to me. However, there are moments when it SUCKS ASS! I'm under 30 and not married so this should be the prime of my social life. Coworkers make plans to get together after work, they don't even ask me to go anymore. There are times the unconditional love from my son is all I need to get by, but there will always be a part of me that feels cheated. It's so hard. I don't ever want my son to feel like I didn't want him, but when I found out I was pregnant all I wanted was to NOT be pregnant. But he is so awesome. Funny, sweet and so smart. Definitely smarter than me. It makes me tear up just thinking about his little face. But at night when he is sleeping and it's just me in my little apartment, I imagine what life would be if...
Then again, I remember where I was mentally and emotionally at the time I got pregnant. If I had been left to my own devises with all that freedom and no responsibility, wooo! Who knows what havoc I might have wrought!! Hehehe. I had a wild streak that was probably a little self destructive. At the time I was attending Freedom Theater in Philadelphia, a historical Black theater school. When I informed my classmates that I was expecting, one of them remarked, "Well this oughta cool your hot ass down."
Yeah, truer words were never spoken. Not that I became an angel, but I had an anchor that kept me from going to deep into that world of pleasure and excess. I had a reason to come home.