It’s 5:15am. I think I got to sleep around 3am. My dad called us at 12:30am to help with my mother. She doesn’t look good. She’s in the hospital again. I couldn’t sleep.
And now? It has to be done. Hopefully it will be cathartic. BlogHer, my advertising network, sent me a rather gentle email basically saying I haven’t written in two weeks. They have to do what they have to do as advertisers, and now I need to do whatever it is I need to do, because sometimes, everyone needs a break. It was a very gentle reminder, but it did make me ask, “What’s keeping me from writing?” Anger. Resentment. Rage. Fear. Disappointment. Anxiety. A nice little dash of desperation for flavor. I’m pissed off at the world and just about everything in it. So I’m just going to spew everything I’m upset with in list form.
Politics. I’m pissed off. But I’m not allowed to be pissed off without being labeled a right wing, secret militia, fringe right, obviously one of those Christian, racists. With a gun, obviously. Yes, I’m conservative. Yes, I disagree with almost all the decisions our current president has made. While I’m not a tea-party member per se, I do agree with many of the tenants they stand for. Are some of them loony? Absolutely. There are some liberal loonies too, so I don’t quite understand why loonies on either side are any big deal. It’s the law of averages. I think it’s kind of sad when you fear voicing your opinion. I’m pissed off that I don’t feel more brave. On the other hand, I’ll make myself counted with my vote, so I’m not sure it matters.
Also? I’m pissed at Logan. Not at Logan himself, but the fact that his body decided to get a nasty cold. Believe me it’s an inconvenient time, because someone needs to be here at home with him. As an aside? He was on some pretty heavy children’s cold medicine yesterday. At lunch time, “Soup sick to make better feel?” Then the knock-knock jokes started. His getting high turns him into a comedic Yoda.
Joseph. He’s done nothing but be Joseph. He’s not doing badly. But because he IS Joseph, and it’s the last week of school for him (BUT not Logan’s, because that would make things too EASY) I have to attend an IEP meeting today to plan the next school year. At 9am. On somewhere around 2 hours sleep. While my unresponsive mother is in the hospital. Alone, because Poe will be home with Logan. Who’s sick. Do you start to see the snowball?
Poe. Why do I call him Poe? I can’t remember. Some privacy thing. Now, Poe. Poe is special. 12 years, I’ve loved this man. And I’m about to spend my life retirement savings to fix his teeth. Literally. I just closed our 401Ks and IRAs. I opened my first 401K with my first paycheck after high school. Gone into his mouth. Poof. Of course he’s only getting 60%. 40% goes to taxes and penalties. We now have gone through every single cent we ever had. But he can’t interview without teeth. And God knows, we’ve tried to fix them in the past to no avail. He simply has bad teeth.
Unemployment SUCKS. He’s unemployed. Still. And I was anticipating the unemployment check yesterday to deposit to buy groceries. ‘Cause I am such a rebel. But instead, it was another claim notice. Because my freakin’ husband forgot to sign the effing form he just sent in.
And seriously, economy? You suck. Poe is a good man. Poe is a smart man. Poe is a hard working man who worked nights, went to school mornings, and took over the kids in the afternoons for two years to get a degree in the work he loved. And now he can’t find a job.
My body. We’ve been on a pretty stringent healthy diet, and working out pretty hard. It’s been 3 weeks. Pounds lost to date? 1. 1. 1!?
Period? #suckit.
To recap:
Unemployed, still, going on 16 months. Mother in middle of the night hospital run (still haven’t heard.) Have to go to IEP on 2 hours sleep, alone. Then Poe has a dental consult leaving me alone with sick kid, and clients! We have no money. Poe’s about to have dental surgery. I’m pissed off at the world. Oh, and I might be on my period.
Still here?
Finally, I’m mad at God. Because seriously. Last night, after my husband carried my mother to the car for my dad to drive her to the hospital… Her joints frozen in place, unable to communicate, I got into bed. I just asked point blank, “Where exactly did You want me to start?” I’ve already asked what I’m supposed to be learning from all this. I’ve already asked to be shown the lesson. I haven’t found it yet. Do i feel His presence? No. My brain says He’s walking with me, due to what I’ve read in scripture. I don’t feel it. Scripture says He hears our call. I don’t feel it. I don’t even feel like I’m being told to wait, or be patient, or wait on God’s timing. Just… Nothing.
We’re in this vast time of awfulness. I read on another blog (which I don’t read regularly, and so in my addled state, I’m not going to go hunting for) that everyone has an annus horibus (which is Latin and I’m sure I totally butchered it since I’m not looking at her blog.) Basically, every one has a year. The one year everyone can look back, point to, and say That! That was my no-good, horrible, very bad year. We’re smack dab in the middle of ours, and I’m having trouble seeing anything but an oncoming train at the end of the tunnel.
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