Wizard of Oz is on ... Glinda is acting as the munchkin-to-witchkiller liaison. Popcorn is crunching. Babies smell of soap and think the tinman is a robot. The wind began to switch ... I want to go home on days like today. I miss the smell of leaves burning. I miss a more comfortable tragedy; this one pinches. I miss the slow death of midwestern industrial decay.

I knew being a single mother in law school would be difficult, but when I came here I wasn't planning on remaining single. Not some grandoise narcissistic delusion, but I took simple comfort in the idea that when someone says "we're getting married in December," it's not made lightly. Cuh-rist on a bike, why else would I be here with two children, no job, and 9,000 pages to read per second? Here. New York City. Among the most difficult for anyone, and that goes triple for me. Not because I'm special, but because there's three of me.

So in my chronicle of things that might have gone wrong since I've been here and did, being totally abandoned is definitely the worst. There. I said it. Feel sorry for me. Go on, do it. I don't think I've been ready to admit that until today. I played it off legit. LEGIT?! Nothing could be further from the legit.
I wish I had health insurance. I'll need it when I'm committed.