I Hate Thursdays

   The cat lies next to/on top of me….her back pressed into my neck, her heart against my heart….her purrs vibrate through my body, washing me with the feeling of her love. I’d rather lie here in this warm cocoon than get up and face the day…Thursday….the worst day in my week. Thursdays; I drop my daughter off at school in the morning, and her father picks her up after school (except the third week of the month). Every Thursday morning, I fight back tears as I hug my daughter and tell her that I love her. I feel like I am throwing her to the wolves as I pull away from the curb. I ponder my own necessity as I sit alone in our empty apartment, and I busy myself with all the things that need to be done, but I don’t want to do.
   I know that my daughter needs time with her father and brother, but I can’t help but feel like I’m ripping away a piece of myself when I leave her with them. It’s best that I have no clue what goes on over there, I’m sure that I wouldn’t like it. The cat stretches, and cuddles closer. I think she feels my distress….or maybe she’s just cold…

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