

Ms. Lalonde
@tentacleTheatrics
Art by imammunition
Trying to split my attention between babysitting my own brother and his son (excuse me, “little brother”) while he makes another terrible decision, watching my actual child, and dealing with entirely too much paperwork all at once. One coffee is not enough. I need a mug the size of my head.
Sigh. I hate summer.
When mothers complained about how lack of sleep could emotionally drain them I wasn’t one to wag my finger or tut but truly you do not understand the full brunt of exhaustion until you experience it. I thought I could guess. I could not. I love her but I would kill for a nap.
I think more of you should take up journaling. Not because I don’t enjoy seeing your fantastically depressing posts but because I enjoy the preservation of records and the internet, though acting as a time capsule, is just so flimsy.
I hope all of you are aware I am skillfully and rapidly typing one handed while Roxy holds my other arm hostage for her nap. If I dare move my palm from her back for a mere moment to do any mundane and quick task she immediately begins to fuss as if she has been scorned. She’s not old enough yet to have anything beyond downy hair atop her head and yet already she is becoming the boss of the household. It’s very cute.
Sigh. Now I, too, want a hot pocket.

(( I hate being That Person and I’m genuinely not saying this to be rude or anything I apologize if it comes off that way but even if it’s a vague post can we possibly tag #cw-suicide when discussing it please :(

Your name is Rose Lalonde. You are a published and quite popular author, a new mother, and the sister – though the two of you were raised in different households – of a famous film director. You have odd dreams and migraine spells that leave you defunct in the darkness of your study for hours on occasion but otherwise you find yourself content in the newly domestic lulls of your life. - No incest - Main acc is @turophileGibber - Art by imammunition https://i.ibb.co/Y7tSYzNP/IMG-9305.jpg
I am tempted to keep the intricacies of my timeline sealed behind zipped lips. I think it would be more fun to see how many of you could, if in a position to, guess what the fuck is happening in my neck of the woods. I’ll give you a hint: dastardly little.
Sarcastic postings aside, Hello there. I imagine introductions are wholly unnecessary. There seem to be plenty alternative versions of me who should have covered the “Hello, my name is Rose Lalonde” statuses in my stead.
Ah, social media, where every mentally stable person flocks to.










