On My Way To Nowhere

Swaying from side to side, I grasped onto the kitchen cabinet and took another big gulp of my rum-and-lime diet soda. As I made dinner and smoked cigarettes in the kitchen, my 7-year-old daughter asked me a question about her homework. I don't remember the question but I do remember what she said next. "I just want a mom with a mind," she shouted and threw her homework down and ran crying into her bedroom. I remember my husband getting really angry at her and telling her not to disrespect her mother. I don't remember much after that.