I’m just suddenly reminded of my dad and how, while the last thing I ever said to him was that I loved him, I never told him that I forgave him for all those stupid things he did when I was growing up.
I didn’t ever tell him that I was so fucking happy that we actually had a real relationship and it wasn’t just him calling me every few days and me answering because he paid my phone bill and I felt like I had to.
Just… I had so many things I wish I would have said, and of course didn’t realize it until he was gone and I couldn’t.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still talk to him; well, realistically, I talk to myself and pretend like he can hear me. I’ve told him all of this before, but it still just hits me really hard some days that it’s been over two years since I’ve heard his voice and his big, booming laugh and saw his goofy-ass smile.
Shit is just kinda hard right now, and I guess there’s part of me that’s always going to be that little girl who trusted that her daddy would always be there to kiss it better and make everything alright.
I didn’t cry on May 4th, so I guess I’m doing it now.
I read something really emotional about the way it feels to leave somebody or watch them go and not know if you’ll ever see them again, and I’m suddenly in tears and having a lot of feelings about a lot of things.
Ugh. I just want to call Katy and cry about how sad I am, but my reason for being sad is really stupid and I don’t want to bug her when I know she has more important shit to do than deal with me.
So, basically, it’s looking like I’ve got some choices to make in regards to how the next bit of life is going to play out.
First option is get a new job. It breaks my heart that I’m considering this, because I love my coworkers and my job is actually not too bad most of the time. It’s the hours. I straight up can’t afford to be working only 30 hours a week. Not to mention the fact that the company I’m currently working for is a company that prides themselves for being based on “Christian values” which basically means that they are completely insensitive and don’t give a fuck about you if you are anything but Christian. Because, y’know, this is AMERICA DAMMIT.
Second option is to quit my job and go to school full time. I’m under the understanding that there’s some sort of money offered for people to live on if they’re taking classes full time? That would be cool. I’ve been wanting to start university anyway. I’m just too scared to do it.
And at some point during all of this decision-making, I’m probably selling my car and taking myself off of the insurance policy. My poor little Hyundai is already broken (and I don’t have the money to throw at it to get it fixed) and I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to pay my insurance, as I’m sure it’s going to go up considerably after this weekend. If I do this, I’m going to have to find a new job or get in trouble with my current employers because I’m required to do some driving one day a week. Not to mention that my job is basically out in the country and there aren’t really any bus routes that are anywhere close to it.
Life sucks, and I need to start changing things so that it sucks less.
Just when I thought I had reached the ultimate level of suck my life could possibly get to, the universe just had to fucking prove me wrong. And of course, had to pick right before Christmas to do it.
So I’m gonna keep listening to sad songs and crying a lot.
Don’t look at me.
Whenever I think of Wall-E, I think of a few special little boys.
The first is Jonah Andrew Davis, a three year old with the longest hair I have ever seen on a little boy. To this day, he is one of the cutest and most darling kids I have ever worked with. He walked up to me on my first day there, proudly proclaiming that his name was “Jonah Anna Davis” and that we were friends. I thought he was a girl for about a week. He did a really killer Wall-E impersonation.
The second is a kindergartener named Zachary. He was labeled as a “special needs” student; he couldn’t pay attention and wasn’t really at a level to participate in lessons with the rest of his class, but due to the lovely budget that most public schools have, he was in a regular kindergarten class with other kids that didn’t like him because he was “weird” and “different”. The teacher was amazing, bless her heart, but she just didn’t have the time to sit with him and teach him the way he needed to be taught. So that’s what I did. We sat and talked and worked through the lesson plan a little slower and a little differently than the rest of the kids (whom I also worked with and loved just as much). His favorite time of the day was when he got to write out a journal entry and draw a picture. Whatever his journal was, he would always draw Wall-E into his pictures somewhere. I adored that little boy. He cried when I had to stop volunteering with his class and, to be honest, I cried too.
Ah, memories. Best of luck to you, boys. I will always remember you as the littlest men who have ever touched my heart.
Oh hey, birthday. I didn’t see you there.
Jen has already decided that she’s taking me out after work tomorrow, which eliminates any chance I had of going to work Friday morning not hungover. Although, I’ve somehow managed to escape a hangover this far, hopefully that’ll ring true this weekend.
Ahahahahaha who am I kidding. White girl wasted, here I come.
I must admit, this weekend has been pretty awesome. But at this exact moment, 7:31pm on August 26th, I am overcome with the most overpowering feeling of frustration and helplessness.
My head hurts and my ankle hurts and I have to be up in six hours and I just want to go to sleep and not wake up for a long time.
Worst fucking night ever. Car breaks down on the freeway, no money to get it fixed, hardly have enough money to get it towed home. Best option is to sell it to the u-pull-it place and use that money (along with anything I potentially beg my aunt for on the grounds of I’ll pay her back and not wanting to buy a car that will immediately break down on me) to buy a junker.
But then that raises the issue of being a woman and doing anything car related, bringing up the fear of getting completely ripped off because I don’t know shit about cars. The closest male family member who knows anything about cars lives about five hours away and, while he is my favorite uncle and loves me a lot, it’s not as if I can just ask him to go with me to check out a car, if I do indeed find one. So if I do any buying of vehicles, I’m doing it on my own.
Excuse me now while I go burst into tears and think about how much I miss my daddy and how he’d be able to help me somehow if he were here.
(But he’s not, princess, so suck it up and get on with it.)