On the money I make waitressing

Two of my most favorite people in the world turned a year older within the last month and I did not buy them gifts until today. Thank goodness for The World Wide Web and it's efficiency because at least they got delivered the same day I sent them. Today. One about a week late, the other, two weeks. I have no excuse really, because I'm 26 and things like that shouldn't happen unless you are in college or have a drug problem. But I have always worn my flakiness like an old friend who visits from time to time. Say every couple of days or so. Or, ok, maybe everyday but I also make good decisions. STOP THE JUDGEMENT, I CAN'T TAKE THE JUDGEMENT. Mom casually dropped the question, "so, what did you get daddy for his birthday again? I can't remember," which I think was her polite way of saying, "it's not funny, it's not cute and it's certainly not charming to have bought your father nothing for his birthday. You ungrateful child." If you've ever met Alison, you know what I'm talking about. The thing is, and here come the hopeful-to-be-believed justification, owning a small business and being a waitress is something like buying a lottery ticket every morning. When it's good, it's piping hot slightly-too-sweet rolls out of the oven awesome but when it's bad it's time for the nightmares and cold, sweaty realizations and general unease that actually isn't general at all but perpetual sheer terror. And that is what I like about my life. I am either terribly happy or in the bathroom having a near-death experience.