The last time I did gardening I wound up shaking from exhaustion a few hours later. And…since I’m crumbling from stress already I’ve let our garden go wild this year. I’m genuinely deeply embarrassed by it. As I am by how messy my house is. …But my kids are learning to help, my ex-husband helps but also creates messes…and nobody else helps me. …I had a maid for a year when our son was really little…but I’m not doing that again. At least for a while.
“You had a maid!” an enraged anti-rich Tik Tok star might say. I just watched a woman who seemingly genuinely believes rich people are morally decrepit and that she, a white, able-bodied, American woman who looks reasonably well-off (at least on camera) is not privileged enough to “count” as part of the problem.
Honestly…rich people are kinder to me and my family than non-rich people. I feel literally safer around them. And what’s worse…is that the older the money the kinder and more clear in their thinking they tend to be. …That being said, they’re not all good people. Obviously. And having money and being actively evil is bad combination indeed.
The maid service we used was progressive. They used seemingly green cleaning products. …And they paid their workers a living-wage. And we tipped and gave gifts. It was delightful. I had a clean home…
I have little to no hope for my crush to work out. …But crazier things have happened. …Still, I completely question if he’s read my blog now. At all. I think that was wishful thinking on my part to think he had. I could be wrong, but…I have no strength left to be actively hopeful.
…I do wonder though. What’s going on supernaturally?
I’m actually a very egalitarian person. Genuinely. So…if there was a poor man or a rich man alike who I found equally attractive and admirable I wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t care if they both found me attractive. And truly loved me. …And I can’t imagine Heaven is different than that.
It’s been odd finding “ghosts” who are all so wealthy falling in love with Lacey. She’s still grappling with that observation…
She’s a woman who exists behind the Millennial mask she wears in public (and on camera) to fit in. Her voice changes when she’s being herself. Her soul comes to the surface. And it’s not safe around anyone but them.
“They don’t exist, sweetie!” says a hater?
But they do. …Whether they’re demons or ghosts they do exist. I’m not schizophrenic, according to real professionals with the appropriate experience and credentials.
A light moves across the room.
Lacey feels like screaming at the top of her lungs. No façades.
“You look horrible on camera.” says Jack. “It ages you. And that’s the best part.”
Lacey laughs. It’s true. She’s better looking in person.
“It’s bizarre.” says Lacey.
“It’d show more if you were more relaxed. As it stands though you keep trying to capture it to prove something to people. Let’s be honest. And it’s abrasive… Not that you care. Well, you care but not enough.” He licks his lips. “I don’t think anyone gets how awful it was for us to be separated recently.” He sighs. “Now all you do is try to argue.”
A dark ball moves across her doorway.
Lacey rebukes the demons who may be present.
Anyway…the thing is…Lacey didn’t indulge in the supernatural until she was 30. And then it wasn’t a conjuring so much as her being suicidal and visiting a statue…in September…looking into the statue’s eyes and seeing real eyes looking back at her. A face. It was as if the statue came to life.
…Did she lose her mind? Did she start to conjure things with her seething internal pain?
…The thing is…rich people exist. And Lacey has to be careful. Because the dream she had in her youth could have been about Michael.
“I’m sorry he’s not responding.” says Michael.