At a standstill.
I feel like I am, though I know that I am not. There are things I am doing. But the fed job ended on Friday and amazing amounts of anxiety took its place.
Yesterday I applied for jobs, some of which are the exact things I do not want to do as an attorney. I do not have a choice. I've applied for similar positions (meaning other positions which are not what I want) but for some reason one of them really got to me. I cried. Not that crying is something odd around here these days.
I also attempted on about 20 ocassions to access the Unemployment website. It was down most of yesterday, and by the time I got in it was so late I was too tired to deal with all the information.
There are other jobs to apply for. Some of which require information from the fed agency I worked at (and may be recalled to, who knows?) I am trying to get that form, but it is being difficult to obtain.
And there is a bankruptcy claim to file. I could do it myself, and may, but I do not know the ins and outs of the bankruptcy system. A friend who does has given me some names of attorneys who could assist. It is difficult to think of paying someone to do something when the cash in the bank is all I can count on for now, and for an unknown time into the future.
Needing to sell the house is a very real possibility. If I were to be offered one of the jobs I've applied for - and take it - it would mean moving anyway. Moving worries me. I suspect my son's father would attempt to take residential custody of our boy. And so far as my girls go . . . well one of them frequently stops talking to me anyway, but the other has become a friend. I will miss them both as I do not believe they will often visit if I have to move.
I have said, because it is true, that everytime I have gone to school, I've lost someone. Attending law school has cost me a great deal. So much more than I was willing to 'spend'. You cannot know the full price of something until the deal is done. This was too much. Too much and I cannot rewind time. There is no do-over.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Frustrating day
Today has been a day of reflection for me. I am tired of reflection. No, not really. I am tired of the feelings that bring on reflection, tired of the blues it brings on. That is a bit backward. One of my brothers (the one I sent the Reading Vacation to) responded. There is still so much pain, so much anger in all eight of us (yes, Tara is based on me) that it remains hard to be connected to one another.
Sometimes I wish I could forget all this. I yearn for a day when I am not the survivor of so much childhood abuse. When I can just BE who I am and not have it be affected by those past experiences. But it cannot be. Not in this life. Perhaps in some quantum life our father did not continue the cycle of abuse onto us eight. Perhaps in some other life he actually appreciated who he had in his life, cared for our mother, and took care of us all.
Today, I want just to leave. It's my self-protection, leaving, flight. I don't stand and fight as much as I should probably. If I could leave this stressful time, I would.
Sometimes I wish I could forget all this. I yearn for a day when I am not the survivor of so much childhood abuse. When I can just BE who I am and not have it be affected by those past experiences. But it cannot be. Not in this life. Perhaps in some quantum life our father did not continue the cycle of abuse onto us eight. Perhaps in some other life he actually appreciated who he had in his life, cared for our mother, and took care of us all.
Today, I want just to leave. It's my self-protection, leaving, flight. I don't stand and fight as much as I should probably. If I could leave this stressful time, I would.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Dealing
Some things that occur in your life are things you must deal with. Sometimes even when you deal with them, they continue to hurt.
What might Tara's mothers life have been if she had been taken to the hospital when it was first so clear that "something" was wrong? As it was (yes, it is a true story) her mother remained in a coma for a month. When she was being moved from bed to gurney (or back) for a test, the orderlies dropped her. Soon after she fell to the floor, within hours, she woke from the coma. She was dropped again later, and regained her ability to speak after that fall. It would be months more before she was able to walk.
Her children took up the physical and speech therapies after the insurance ran out. Their grandmother, the one their father hated, would stay with their mother throughout the day during the school year, Tara would take on that role during most weekends and many summers. Their father returned to his surly hateful self, often beating the kids with his belt if he came home from work and found out that his wife had had a seizure that day (or for some other indiscretion he decided was a major problem - based on what criteria the kids never knew.)
Their father's childhood was less than stellar. The way he acted was triggered by his own childhood. That is not an excuse for his behavior, it is a simple fact. That however is a writing for another day.
What might Tara's mothers life have been if she had been taken to the hospital when it was first so clear that "something" was wrong? As it was (yes, it is a true story) her mother remained in a coma for a month. When she was being moved from bed to gurney (or back) for a test, the orderlies dropped her. Soon after she fell to the floor, within hours, she woke from the coma. She was dropped again later, and regained her ability to speak after that fall. It would be months more before she was able to walk.
Her children took up the physical and speech therapies after the insurance ran out. Their grandmother, the one their father hated, would stay with their mother throughout the day during the school year, Tara would take on that role during most weekends and many summers. Their father returned to his surly hateful self, often beating the kids with his belt if he came home from work and found out that his wife had had a seizure that day (or for some other indiscretion he decided was a major problem - based on what criteria the kids never knew.)
Their father's childhood was less than stellar. The way he acted was triggered by his own childhood. That is not an excuse for his behavior, it is a simple fact. That however is a writing for another day.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
The Reading Vacation
The camper rocked, back and forth, as it sped north on Interstate I-35. Plagued by car sickness, Tara usually slept on long trips. In a few years, she would find out that car sickness leaves when she is behind the wheel, but the sleepiness on long trips would stay with her always.
Sleep wasn’t coming this time though. Tara watched as the yellow and white painted stripes and dashes of the road curved and disappeared at the lower edge of the bubble shaped window. She and her brothers were all laying on the ‘master’ bed of the camper, the one that was directly over the cab of the truck hauling them, their temporary abode, and the comatose woman behind them.
"She isn’t gonna die, is she Dale?" Robby asked, and then burst into tears.
"I don’t know." Was Dale’s honest answer, uncharacteristically lacking sarcasm or a joke. He threw an arm over Robby and let him cry. Tara and Huey did the same.
Any sleepiness any of the four had been feeling was instantly banished.
~~~~~~~~~
Two days earlier they had packed up the camper and headed for Texas. Their group left the evening of the 12th and drove at night. Dad liked driving at night, there weren’t as many cars. Mom, Dad, Joe and Melanie had taken a day off work and the kids a day off school to go to Texas to visit with one of the older brothers and his family. It was cold in Kansas City, and everyone kept saying it would be warm there, so everyone should pack shorts. Her shorts didn’t fit anymore, really they were too tight, but she packed them anyway. If it really was hot, she’d squeeze into them.
Tara was hoping that she and her Mom would have a chance to repeat, a little, the time they had spent together in the camper on a hunting trip. The boys all hunted, except for Huey, but he went with the others, dressed in a too big orange vest, once or twice. Tara and Mom would clean up the breakfast dishes (well throw away the paper plates and wash the frying pan), return the ‘table/bed’ from ‘bed’ to ‘table’ and pull out their novels. Tara was afraid to go outside, there were hunters all over the forest, you could hear rifles and shot guns so long as the sun was up. Mom didn’t seem the least interested in stepping out the door. She would crank open a window now and then to let out some of the smoke from her Pall Mall Gold’s, but that seemed to be all the nature she needed. The novels were dime store romances. Not great literature, but Tara would read practically anything. Mom got most of her books as hand me downs from Tara’s grandmother, and the girl grabbed on to them after Mom was finished, so Harlequin Romances were their literary staples. She carefully packed two novels, mentally keeping her fingers crossed she and Mom could spend time reading together.
When her brother Joe and his wife Melanie arrived with their three girls, Melanie wasn’t feeling well. She worked at the same big IRS facility Mom worked. A flu bug was going around there. Melanie had been sick for three or four days, and was finally recovering.
Because Melanie wasn’t feeling well, and the three younger girls would fare better on the long trip if they had room to lie down, which they would not in Joe and Melanie’s car, it was decided they would ride in the camper with the girl and Mom, and Tara’s brothers would ride with Joe. Tara didn’t care if Melanie and the girls shared the camper, but she knew that her hopes for time with her mother would not come true. Mom and Melanie would talk. They worked together now, not in the same department, but still together. Tara thought she would be pushed aside for adult conversation. But that wasn’t what happened. It was late when they left and Melanie took her girls up to the master bed and they all went to sleep. She still didn’t get special time with her mom though. Mom was feeling ill, sick to her stomach like Melanie had been, and went to bed early too. The girl laid next to her mother on the table/bed, reading for a while, but nothing was the same.
She pondered being pushed aside. Mom had eight kids to deal with and Dad. All of her siblings were boys. Every last one of them. Boys are loud. Boys do things that require their parents attention. Maybe not all boys, but her brothers sure did. Except maybe Huey, the baby. Not a baby anymore, but only nine years old. Mom was busy all the time! She worked, she cleaned, she parented the boys. Tara tried hard to be quiet and good so Mom didn’t have to spend too much time parenting her too. It was hard to be quiet though when Dale pulled her hair. Or one of the boys took something of hers. Mom had a lot of people who wanted or needed her time.
Lately though, Mom had been giving Tara more of her time. Just last month she had taken Tara on a shopping spree. Mom bought herself four or five brand new pants suits to wear to work. Mom bought Tara some new clothes too. Tara had never gotten clothes except at the beginning of a school year or for Christmas. She felt so cool walking into school that next day wearing the green gauze blouse Mom had bought for her! She was the only girl in class wearing something new that day.
The camper rocked to and fro, speeding toward Garland Texas. She could hear the radio from the cab of the truck now and then, the CB Radio more often from that location. She could hear the sounds of sleep from the other females in the camper. It took quite a while before she slept.
The trip was long and boring. At some point Dad stopped and slept. They arrived at Lou and Diane’s house in Garland Texas early afternoon the next day.
Diane’s family room was pretty big, but was soon filled with her own brood plus eleven. Crowded there, the women spilled into the kitchen. The younger kids made a bee line for the swing set. Everyone was hungry. Dinner was fixed. Mom was back in action, the flu apparently retreating already. Soon, they were all fed. Dad, uncharacteristically gregarious, handed Pat and Bobby several bills and told them to take Huey, walk across the street to the Dairy Queen and get everyone a chocolate shake. The server at the Dairy Queen had never gotten an order for 15 chocolate shakes before. The boys came back and told the tale.
Tara and her brothers were all bedded down in the Family room. Joe and Melanie were given the guest room, their girls bunked in with Diane and Lou’s daughter. Huey bunked in with Lou and Diane’s son.
Mom woke in the middle of the night with a headache. She walked from the camper where she and Dad were sleeping, into the house looking for the bathroom and some aspirin. She tripped over Robby, and fell onto Dale, waking both of them. The flu was apparently back. Mom was ill.
In the morning when Mom didn’t come into the house for breakfast, no one worried too much. Dad told them Mom was ill. Dad was happy again, telling stories, being so unlike himself.
In the afternoon when she didn’t come in for lunch, hadn’t left the camper, when the temperature was climbing and Tara really was wearing shorts outside in the middle of February, everyone became worried. The camper was stifling inside when it was hot outside. Dehydration was considered. Diane told Dad to bring her inside, put her in her and Lou’s bed. Everyone agreed that having the flu and being in the camper were not good ideas. Dad just went out and opened the windows, left the door of the camper open for ventilation. He said he tried to get her to come in but she wouldn’t wake up.
A few hours later, Lou and Joe conferred with one another. Something was wrong with Mom. Dad didn’t want anyone to bother her, but it wasn’t okay that she’d stayed in that camper all day, all through the heat of the day, and never once came in for water or to use the bathroom.
They went to Dad and talked with him. Finally all agreed "something" was wrong and Mom needed to go to the doctor. Dad would not take her to the hospital in Garland or in Dallas. He insisted on driving back to Kansas City and putting her in the hospital there. They’d packed quickly, leaving much behind. Soon they were all piled into the camper, no mixing of families this time. Joe and Melanie in their car, Dad driving the truck. Tara, Robby, Dale and Huey all in the camper with their comatose mother.
They stopped for gas along the way. The first time Dad tried to wake Mom again. She would not stir. He pulled her up by one arm and smacked her hard across the face, reaching his hand back as far as he could before racing it toward her left cheek. He could not stir her at all now. He let her flop back onto the table/bed, pumped the gas and raced off toward Kansas City again, never considering, never even thinking that what was happening might have been curtailed by medicine. Never thinking that what was happening would scar his children and grandchildren forever after.
Hours later, when they arrived in Kansas City, Mom could not be roused. Dad had one of the boys hold Mom up and throw her arms over his shoulders. He grabbed her arms and dragged her into the house. He flopped her onto the couch, and stood there, breathing hard, eyes wild with confusion and fear.
Dad went to the phone and called Grandma and told her what was happening. Tara knew then how scared Dad was. He hated that Grandma, her mother’s mother. "Alright. Alright. Yes, the hospital" was all Tara heard him say before he hung up the phone. Dad turned to his older children and said that Grandma thought it was a stroke and that he should get Mom to the hospital right away. He called the doctor first though, and got the same response from the doctor. Soon, he was dragging Mom back outside, this time to the car, pushing and pulling her into the back seat. He couldn’t call an ambulance. It would be too expensive. Besides, it was too late for quick action now.
Tara wouldn’t remember the next days of her life very well. It seemed that she stayed in her bedroom unless and until someone came to the house to talk about Mom and how she was; they weren’t sure she would live; she was in a coma; Robby wasn’t old enough to go see her, but he was tall enough to pass for fifteen, so he got to go; it was time for them to bring Tara and Huey to the hospital to say goodbye.
Dad told Tara to wear a dress to the hospital to visit her mother, that it was proper and pants weren’t. When they arrived, she and Huey held hands as they walked toward the room. The hallway was like one of those hallways you see in a dream. Long, and the more you walked, the longer it got. Somehow, even with the ever lengthening hallway, they still made it to the room.
Dad grabbed the handle, turned it and opened the door. Tara felt like she was only three feet tall. The bed Mom was in seemed to be five feet tall. Mom was too high up to reach. She and Huey stood there and looked at the lumps under the blankets that everyone said was their mother. Tubes and wires ran to and from the bed. Tara couldn’t see anything but white walls, sterility, blankets, wires and tubes. If Mom was in there somewhere Tara couldn’t see her. Dad asked if they wanted to go say hello. She and Huey moved closer. There was no place on her mother she could see except part of her face. No where to touch, the lumps under the blanket could be anything. In between Tara and her mother’s face were wires and tubes. Too scary to reach around or through . . . if she accidentally knocked one away, would her mother die? Was she dying anyway? Tears slipped down her face. She was afraid to move. When Dad saw that neither she nor Huey were going to hug their mother, he turned around, ready to leave. Did he not see they were too afraid to touch her, too afraid to move? "Tell your mother you love her and goodbye." Dad said. She choked out "bye mom I love you" or something close to it, because the tears stopped slipping out, and just flooded. Huey burst into tears. Dad guided them from the room, neither of them could see to walk.
It would be years before Tara again wondered why Dad didn’t take Mom to the hospital in Texas. Either Garland or Dallas, which wasn’t too far away. She would remember her brothers trying to get Dad to take Mom there. Tara would never understand how it was that all of them knew Mom was too ill to move except Dad. Mom had become independent before she had the stroke. Did Dad think that by being ill, she was getting her just desserts for wanting more than he wanted her to have? Whatever the reason, Dad did not do right by Mom. She lived, partially paralyzed on her right side. She and Tara would never repeat their reading vacation.
Sleep wasn’t coming this time though. Tara watched as the yellow and white painted stripes and dashes of the road curved and disappeared at the lower edge of the bubble shaped window. She and her brothers were all laying on the ‘master’ bed of the camper, the one that was directly over the cab of the truck hauling them, their temporary abode, and the comatose woman behind them.
"She isn’t gonna die, is she Dale?" Robby asked, and then burst into tears.
"I don’t know." Was Dale’s honest answer, uncharacteristically lacking sarcasm or a joke. He threw an arm over Robby and let him cry. Tara and Huey did the same.
Any sleepiness any of the four had been feeling was instantly banished.
~~~~~~~~~
Two days earlier they had packed up the camper and headed for Texas. Their group left the evening of the 12th and drove at night. Dad liked driving at night, there weren’t as many cars. Mom, Dad, Joe and Melanie had taken a day off work and the kids a day off school to go to Texas to visit with one of the older brothers and his family. It was cold in Kansas City, and everyone kept saying it would be warm there, so everyone should pack shorts. Her shorts didn’t fit anymore, really they were too tight, but she packed them anyway. If it really was hot, she’d squeeze into them.
Tara was hoping that she and her Mom would have a chance to repeat, a little, the time they had spent together in the camper on a hunting trip. The boys all hunted, except for Huey, but he went with the others, dressed in a too big orange vest, once or twice. Tara and Mom would clean up the breakfast dishes (well throw away the paper plates and wash the frying pan), return the ‘table/bed’ from ‘bed’ to ‘table’ and pull out their novels. Tara was afraid to go outside, there were hunters all over the forest, you could hear rifles and shot guns so long as the sun was up. Mom didn’t seem the least interested in stepping out the door. She would crank open a window now and then to let out some of the smoke from her Pall Mall Gold’s, but that seemed to be all the nature she needed. The novels were dime store romances. Not great literature, but Tara would read practically anything. Mom got most of her books as hand me downs from Tara’s grandmother, and the girl grabbed on to them after Mom was finished, so Harlequin Romances were their literary staples. She carefully packed two novels, mentally keeping her fingers crossed she and Mom could spend time reading together.
When her brother Joe and his wife Melanie arrived with their three girls, Melanie wasn’t feeling well. She worked at the same big IRS facility Mom worked. A flu bug was going around there. Melanie had been sick for three or four days, and was finally recovering.
Because Melanie wasn’t feeling well, and the three younger girls would fare better on the long trip if they had room to lie down, which they would not in Joe and Melanie’s car, it was decided they would ride in the camper with the girl and Mom, and Tara’s brothers would ride with Joe. Tara didn’t care if Melanie and the girls shared the camper, but she knew that her hopes for time with her mother would not come true. Mom and Melanie would talk. They worked together now, not in the same department, but still together. Tara thought she would be pushed aside for adult conversation. But that wasn’t what happened. It was late when they left and Melanie took her girls up to the master bed and they all went to sleep. She still didn’t get special time with her mom though. Mom was feeling ill, sick to her stomach like Melanie had been, and went to bed early too. The girl laid next to her mother on the table/bed, reading for a while, but nothing was the same.
She pondered being pushed aside. Mom had eight kids to deal with and Dad. All of her siblings were boys. Every last one of them. Boys are loud. Boys do things that require their parents attention. Maybe not all boys, but her brothers sure did. Except maybe Huey, the baby. Not a baby anymore, but only nine years old. Mom was busy all the time! She worked, she cleaned, she parented the boys. Tara tried hard to be quiet and good so Mom didn’t have to spend too much time parenting her too. It was hard to be quiet though when Dale pulled her hair. Or one of the boys took something of hers. Mom had a lot of people who wanted or needed her time.
Lately though, Mom had been giving Tara more of her time. Just last month she had taken Tara on a shopping spree. Mom bought herself four or five brand new pants suits to wear to work. Mom bought Tara some new clothes too. Tara had never gotten clothes except at the beginning of a school year or for Christmas. She felt so cool walking into school that next day wearing the green gauze blouse Mom had bought for her! She was the only girl in class wearing something new that day.
The camper rocked to and fro, speeding toward Garland Texas. She could hear the radio from the cab of the truck now and then, the CB Radio more often from that location. She could hear the sounds of sleep from the other females in the camper. It took quite a while before she slept.
The trip was long and boring. At some point Dad stopped and slept. They arrived at Lou and Diane’s house in Garland Texas early afternoon the next day.
Diane’s family room was pretty big, but was soon filled with her own brood plus eleven. Crowded there, the women spilled into the kitchen. The younger kids made a bee line for the swing set. Everyone was hungry. Dinner was fixed. Mom was back in action, the flu apparently retreating already. Soon, they were all fed. Dad, uncharacteristically gregarious, handed Pat and Bobby several bills and told them to take Huey, walk across the street to the Dairy Queen and get everyone a chocolate shake. The server at the Dairy Queen had never gotten an order for 15 chocolate shakes before. The boys came back and told the tale.
Tara and her brothers were all bedded down in the Family room. Joe and Melanie were given the guest room, their girls bunked in with Diane and Lou’s daughter. Huey bunked in with Lou and Diane’s son.
Mom woke in the middle of the night with a headache. She walked from the camper where she and Dad were sleeping, into the house looking for the bathroom and some aspirin. She tripped over Robby, and fell onto Dale, waking both of them. The flu was apparently back. Mom was ill.
In the morning when Mom didn’t come into the house for breakfast, no one worried too much. Dad told them Mom was ill. Dad was happy again, telling stories, being so unlike himself.
In the afternoon when she didn’t come in for lunch, hadn’t left the camper, when the temperature was climbing and Tara really was wearing shorts outside in the middle of February, everyone became worried. The camper was stifling inside when it was hot outside. Dehydration was considered. Diane told Dad to bring her inside, put her in her and Lou’s bed. Everyone agreed that having the flu and being in the camper were not good ideas. Dad just went out and opened the windows, left the door of the camper open for ventilation. He said he tried to get her to come in but she wouldn’t wake up.
A few hours later, Lou and Joe conferred with one another. Something was wrong with Mom. Dad didn’t want anyone to bother her, but it wasn’t okay that she’d stayed in that camper all day, all through the heat of the day, and never once came in for water or to use the bathroom.
They went to Dad and talked with him. Finally all agreed "something" was wrong and Mom needed to go to the doctor. Dad would not take her to the hospital in Garland or in Dallas. He insisted on driving back to Kansas City and putting her in the hospital there. They’d packed quickly, leaving much behind. Soon they were all piled into the camper, no mixing of families this time. Joe and Melanie in their car, Dad driving the truck. Tara, Robby, Dale and Huey all in the camper with their comatose mother.
They stopped for gas along the way. The first time Dad tried to wake Mom again. She would not stir. He pulled her up by one arm and smacked her hard across the face, reaching his hand back as far as he could before racing it toward her left cheek. He could not stir her at all now. He let her flop back onto the table/bed, pumped the gas and raced off toward Kansas City again, never considering, never even thinking that what was happening might have been curtailed by medicine. Never thinking that what was happening would scar his children and grandchildren forever after.
Hours later, when they arrived in Kansas City, Mom could not be roused. Dad had one of the boys hold Mom up and throw her arms over his shoulders. He grabbed her arms and dragged her into the house. He flopped her onto the couch, and stood there, breathing hard, eyes wild with confusion and fear.
Dad went to the phone and called Grandma and told her what was happening. Tara knew then how scared Dad was. He hated that Grandma, her mother’s mother. "Alright. Alright. Yes, the hospital" was all Tara heard him say before he hung up the phone. Dad turned to his older children and said that Grandma thought it was a stroke and that he should get Mom to the hospital right away. He called the doctor first though, and got the same response from the doctor. Soon, he was dragging Mom back outside, this time to the car, pushing and pulling her into the back seat. He couldn’t call an ambulance. It would be too expensive. Besides, it was too late for quick action now.
Tara wouldn’t remember the next days of her life very well. It seemed that she stayed in her bedroom unless and until someone came to the house to talk about Mom and how she was; they weren’t sure she would live; she was in a coma; Robby wasn’t old enough to go see her, but he was tall enough to pass for fifteen, so he got to go; it was time for them to bring Tara and Huey to the hospital to say goodbye.
Dad told Tara to wear a dress to the hospital to visit her mother, that it was proper and pants weren’t. When they arrived, she and Huey held hands as they walked toward the room. The hallway was like one of those hallways you see in a dream. Long, and the more you walked, the longer it got. Somehow, even with the ever lengthening hallway, they still made it to the room.
Dad grabbed the handle, turned it and opened the door. Tara felt like she was only three feet tall. The bed Mom was in seemed to be five feet tall. Mom was too high up to reach. She and Huey stood there and looked at the lumps under the blankets that everyone said was their mother. Tubes and wires ran to and from the bed. Tara couldn’t see anything but white walls, sterility, blankets, wires and tubes. If Mom was in there somewhere Tara couldn’t see her. Dad asked if they wanted to go say hello. She and Huey moved closer. There was no place on her mother she could see except part of her face. No where to touch, the lumps under the blanket could be anything. In between Tara and her mother’s face were wires and tubes. Too scary to reach around or through . . . if she accidentally knocked one away, would her mother die? Was she dying anyway? Tears slipped down her face. She was afraid to move. When Dad saw that neither she nor Huey were going to hug their mother, he turned around, ready to leave. Did he not see they were too afraid to touch her, too afraid to move? "Tell your mother you love her and goodbye." Dad said. She choked out "bye mom I love you" or something close to it, because the tears stopped slipping out, and just flooded. Huey burst into tears. Dad guided them from the room, neither of them could see to walk.
It would be years before Tara again wondered why Dad didn’t take Mom to the hospital in Texas. Either Garland or Dallas, which wasn’t too far away. She would remember her brothers trying to get Dad to take Mom there. Tara would never understand how it was that all of them knew Mom was too ill to move except Dad. Mom had become independent before she had the stroke. Did Dad think that by being ill, she was getting her just desserts for wanting more than he wanted her to have? Whatever the reason, Dad did not do right by Mom. She lived, partially paralyzed on her right side. She and Tara would never repeat their reading vacation.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Three jobs, still broke
I am exhausted. The full time fed job; the part time teaching job, and my handful of clients.
If any higher power is listening . . . PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send help soon. I fear I will die tired, often hungry, in pain and alone.
This was not a great day for finishing meals. An eggo for breakfast, 1/3 of a burrito for lunch, a (tiny) bag of pretzels for 'dinner'. I ate more burrito, but am too tired to finish it.
*sigh*
If any higher power is listening . . . PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send help soon. I fear I will die tired, often hungry, in pain and alone.
This was not a great day for finishing meals. An eggo for breakfast, 1/3 of a burrito for lunch, a (tiny) bag of pretzels for 'dinner'. I ate more burrito, but am too tired to finish it.
*sigh*
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