Drank a cup o' reality at 8:27 p.m. on Tuesday, Feb. 18, 2003
This was not a good day.
I have re-written this diary entry like 5 times already. I can’t seem to land on whatever the real issue is here.
I am tempted to berate myself for my general self-absorption. Honest, I have felt bad about it. But, in my defense when life sucks I am wont to spend a lot of time focusing on all the ways that it sucks and how I am completely powerless over portions of it. And how I don’t deal well with loss of control.
Then there is the desire to sit and ask repeatedly “Why? Why? Why? Why, doesn’t The Farmer want me? Why does he want that ugly un-educated girl who is the same age as his little sister? Why is he hanging out at the bar with her and taking her ugly, uninteresting face out to dinner? Why did he say and do so many pretty things? Why did he make me think he cared?” (Oh, this girl’s name is Amy. My Source informed me that she is super ugly, annoying, and in general A. a bad choice and B. super lame) Interesting, how by virtue of living in a small community, I will forever hear about him. You know, for as trite as it may sound, I really just wanted the chance to love him. He changed his mind about all of that, at the last minute. But, that is one of the parts that I’m powerless over. Sometimes people break-up; sometimes it makes sense, but most of the time it doesn’t. Usually someone gets hurt. I’m not completely sure what happened with The Farmer and I; I’m not sure if he is either.
Upon hearing this news about Amy, I pulled out 3 of my favorite coping mechanisms: I spent an hour lifting weights; I drove for another hour in the country while crying lots; and I have listened to “Cry” by Faith Hill about 100 times since getting home.
I’m not just upset about The Farmer. There are all of these real, sad, and scary family issues going on. Obsessing about The Farmer is merely a diversion from what I should be thinking on: My Grandpa is really sick. Ok, I start crying when I even think about it. I have been getting these daily updates from Mom about what tests are being run, where he is, what unit he is on, what the recent results are. It isn’t bad; but it isn’t good either. Obvious by the fact that he is still in the hospital. Dad is staying with him. Mom went home, because, someone has to work. (upon leaving the hospital she got a hideous 24 hour flu, note: she's never sick!) Tomorrow Papa is having this serious, risky, invasive procedure to see how his heart is. Papa is 83 and smoked for 65 years. Going on the patch now won’t change much. So, Mom called me twice tonight (while I was off driving in the country). When I called her back she gave me Papa’s hospital phone #. She wanted me to call him and tell him that I Love Him, “Just Incase.” I pretended that I wasn’t crying. Mom asked me if I would be able to call and not make it sound bad. Mom is a really good nurse (she has her Doctorate in nursing) she is being realistic here. She wouldn’t have called Victor and I if she weren’t concerned. When I hung up the phone with her, I sat on the floor and cried for a real long time.
So, I called Papa. I pretended that I was just calling to say “Hi.” I must have told him that I loved him 5 times in the 6 minutes we talked. He had to go have more tests run. As we were hanging up I told him that I loved him again, he said, “Thanks for calling Honey, I love you too.” Big tears rolled off my cheeks. Did I tell you? He is such an amazing man, I have no idea how much I’ll miss him. So, I called, “just incase” because my friend Celece is right, never leave it unsaid just because you think they already know.
Oh, and because that isn’t quite enough Papa’s youngest brother, my Uncle Mike (one of my 2 favorite uncles) has Bone Cancer. The doctors give him a year.
No, wait, we’re not done yet. My mom’s cousin, Janet, who has fed me and provided bathing opportunities for me when needed, was diagnosed with Uterine Cancer. She will have a hysterectomy next Thursday. The lesson in her illness is this: get yourself a pap-smear! The pisser is that her sister, Sue, hasn’t had one in years either. In fact when Sue and I were talking tonight, I asked her if she had made an appointment she said, “No, I have enough to worry about.” Then she got all flustered and rushed off the phone. Seriously! Ignorance is bliss until you end up hemorrhaging for weeks and then loosing all your girl parts…
So, yeah, I’ve been a little (Ok, a lot) wrapped up in me this last weekend. But, I don’t know what else to do. Sad works; occasionally I spice it up with angry, lonely or melancholy, but mostly just sad. And lots of it. Please, let me be here for a little bit longer. Eventually I’ll come out of it and be my Spunky self again. Don’t ask me to crawl into your bliss (I can’t see from here to there) or into your angst (I have enough thanks). I need to figure out some stuff.
I was going to take a long hot bubble bath and drink the last beer in the fridge. Instead, I think that I’ll opt for my bed.
Tomorrow will be better. Probably.
current
archive
profile
my rings
guestbook
Credit
my best friend
render
dland
Interesting Entries
cast
101 things
age requirements
Old Married Lady
And now, I'm old enough for that. - Thursday, Mar. 10, 2005
I don't get it! - Saturday, Feb. 26, 2005
Stardom - Saturday, Feb. 12, 2005
many neuroses - Saturday, Feb. 05, 2005
the week of missed connections - Sunday, Jan. 30, 2005
Miss Spunky is:
a 25 year old English teacher currently on an extended adventure in Minnesota, searching for a good man with a big... truck!
I love:
My students, excessive amounts of coffee, Baja Fresh and a good hockey game.
I dislike:
Ignorance, mosquitoes, and people who write in IM and/or grammar so poor that it is clear that they are lazy. IM is LAZY, LAZY do you hear me???