(Note: all interviews went well - I'm waiting to hear back if I get second interviews now. I have an interview to be a substitute teacher on Tuesday. I'll update you when there is news!!)
My friend Danielle loaned me a book called Beautiful Boy. Many of you are nodding in recognition, because apparently I am the ONLY human on the face of the earth who hadn't heard of it. I stayed up nights reading this thing. I read it in absolute horror, but like a nasty car accident where you just have to stay in the lane so you can see the dead body in the street, no matter how much you don't really wanna. Ya know what I mean? This book was AWFUL. It was beautifully written. The characters were compelling and believable. The storyline was amazing. So what, pray tell, made it awful? It was about a perfectly normal family who loved their wonderful, brilliant, well-adjusted son, gave him every possible advantage, and he became a meth addict anyway.
WHAAAAT? I'm sorry, I think I misunderstood. Perfectly normal, healthy, brilliant, talented, well-adjusted children do NOT become meth addicts. Sorry, it's just not true.
Meth addict children happen to people who beat their kids, or neglect them, do meth WITH them or leave them alone and unsupervised for days on end while they go sell heroin or something, right? They don't happen to Mr. and Mrs. Normal America (like me), right?
The worst part about this book is that it is a true story.
So, just because I wasn't tortured enough about the possibility of my sweet, innocent, darling son or daughter becoming a meth addict during THIS book, I am now reading a book written by the son telling the story from his point of view.
I must be insane. (Remember the illustration about the car wreck? Craning my neck to see? Yep, that's me.)