If anyone wants me to talk about their product, they’d damn well better be ready to pay me—and in turn, be ready to accept a review full of honesty and dignity.
Disclaimer: I’m not actually this bitchy IRL.
I had to find an internet persona since I have Gabby to think of, and she deserves a good life. Sue me, I found a more lucrative way to make money from home. Thanks to my blog, I can be both mom and dad, and never have to blow-dry my hair. This setup is especially useful when Gabby is sick.
First and foremost, she doesn’t have to feel the emptiness of her dad going for coffee and never, ever coming back.Must have been one hell of a cup of joe.
By the way, that’s not the incident I don’t care to speak of. I’m over my husband walking out. I love a good cuppa as much as the next person.
No more justifying on my part. I do what I do, and I do it well. Better than anyone else.
Shaking your head? Just ask any of the million-plus unique visitors per month who flock to my site.
Yep, you read that right.
Million plus.
Okay, gotta roll. I need to scour the internet for more material.
“Hi, Andi,” my neighbor Leona calls to me as I finish my afternoon run.
With her gray-streaked hair perfectly blown out and her red lipstick evenly applied, she’s the envy of every young woman in the neighborhood. We can’t all look that put together at our age, let alone her unspoken age. Her leopard jogging suit tight and snug around her voluptuous curves, Leona is a regular Mrs. Robinson plus a few years. She may be a nebby pain in the ass ... but she has the best heart.
Bottom line, she loves my daughter. Therefore, I try to adore her.
“How are you, sweetie?” She waggles her fingers with freshly painted nails at me.
Every weekday between two and three o’clock, I run. Like the mailman, I go out rain or shine, snow or ice. I may be a hermit, but I don’t want to die an early death because of it.Blogger buttis a real thing, people, and I’m not going to suffer from it—if there’s anything I can do about it.
I slow my pace to a walk and wave hello. “Hey, Lee. What’s shaking?”
“Oh, you know, my butt at aerobics.”
Did I mention Leona is a daily aerobicizer? A lifelong member of the Richards Simmons fan club, she counts her Weight Watchers points and dons her leotards as if it’s a religion.
When I smile at her joke, she calls from her porch, “How’s business? They still taking good care of you? You haven’t asked me to babysit in a while. I miss Gabby.”
“All’s good. I haven’t been doing too much other than working and hanging with Gabbs. We’re hermitting.”
“That’s not a real thing.” She scowls at me, her laugh lines deepening. “I keep telling you, Andi, sitting at home and transcribing medical records is no way to survive as a young, single mom. I know it’s good money, but you need a life. A life-life.”
As a side note, no one knows what I really do for a living except for my twin sister, Odelia. She’s a good girl with shiny, perfectly straightened brown hair and doe eyes, living the good life as a sweet and sensitive housewife in Ohio. She just happens to make her manicure money doing the billing for me.
My neighbors and local friends don’t have a clue. After all, this is Pittsburgh—a small tight-knit community masquerading as a big city, where everyone knows your name. I don’t need my cover blown.
“You should be in a job where you meet people,” Leona says, continuing her lecture. “An office with a desk and a lunch break. Maybe be a secretary or whatever they call it nowadays? Administrative assistant? What about a physician’s assistant? You could go back to school and ace it with how much you probably know from transcribing.”
“I’m happy, Lee. I take care of Gabby and myself this way. Let it go.” I try hard not to laugh out loud, waving at Leona before I turn and jog toward the bus stop to meet Gabby.
“How about nursing?” she calls after me. “You like to take care of people, don’t you?”
Not really. Only my daughter and me.
I take off before the convo heads in a direction I prefer to avoid, like me wasting my life away.
The bus rolls to a stop just as I make it to the corner.
“Hey there, baby girl.” I smother Gabby with kisses on top of her crazy curls.
