June 18, 2009
Sorry there will be so many blogs. I have a lot to write and I haven't blogged in awhile.
Alright I said that I was going to write a blog about my shitty last week. Not that this one turned out to be much better. I really hope things get better soon!
Sunday night I came home because Sean knows I can’t sleep there and I had to work the next day. Well I couldn’t sleep worth a freaking damn. So I got my ass up around for work. I got through work just dragging, I’m tired, not feeling so great and it’s a Monday. I didn’t get everything done and tell my boss that. I said that I would stay but I have classes that night. I think ok, no big deal, WRONG.
I got to class to get one of my assignments back. F. Are you kidding me 9/15? It was for my death and dying class. Questions like who do you want to be there when you die, who do you want told right away, who do you want told later. COME ON. I want who ever wants to be there to be there. My family isn’t retarded they will tell people in the when they are ready to in the order that they believe they should be told. Its not like we haven’t had to deal with death before. My family isn’t retarded. I don’t need to hold their hand and walk them though it, after I die. (Yeah that sounds strange I know). I asked her about it. I told her that I can’t FORM an opinion if I don’t HAVE an opinion. But she just wasn’t going to budge. I was pissed. SO then I sit down to take my exam, most of the questions I have no fucking idea where they are coming from! And I have ACTUALLY been going to class! So I’m about ready to cry right freaking there. Go I get done and go home, at home I run into the god damn door and think I broke my little toe on my right foot. I don’t think it’s actually BROKEN now, but I don’t know what you would call it.
But I ice it, set it, tape it and try to get some sleep which didn’t work AGAIN.
Tuesday, I got into work with a messed up toe. You never think how much you use you little toe when you walk! So I take some pain pills and on a mission to reduce the stress I’ve been feeling at work by getting what I didn’t get done Monday day plus much more. So there I go, well 2pm comes up and the manager starts helping me. I’m like, “Really, I’m fine.” He just says, “Yeah, I want to get you out of here by 2.” Um I had planned on staying late to work and now he’s not going to let me. I LOST it I was so pissed. I have so much to do. Finish truck, run and clean up back stock, run 7 pages of DC paperwork, and clean up my areas in general. Why? Because no one gave a shit while I wasn’t there, no one ever helps me, ever, no else knows what I have to do or how much. I just totally lost it. Having a panic attack and crying and shit. I think the lack of sleep was getting to me. So I calm down enough to call my boss and home and tell him the situation. Apparently he and the manager think I “Stand around talking to much.” FUCK THAT! I don’t more than the fucking manger does that’s for damn fucking sure. I explained my situation and he said I could stay an extra hour, hour and a half. Fine. I win. I end up so fucking tired from the panic attack that I only stay like 45 minutes. I was SO freaking tired after all that, that I didn’t think I could drive so I ended up sleeping in my car for a couple of hours. My HOT car, before heading home. So now I have to head home, do all the cleaning and laundry that I neglected, which took longer than expected. However my dad (step dad- Wayne) and I had like a 2 hour long talk about my grandma, which I’ll get to, my mom, my brother, my real dad and everything else. Then we got some ice cream like I was 10.Which was nice. So by the time I got to Sean’s it was like 11pm. Which is ok, we are pretty much night owls anyway. The issue starts the next morning.
Sean’s Brother has been working on the house and we wake up to banging. We had enough to we leave, pjs and all and get in my car and drive out to the “Farm”. So nice and quiet, although Sean is a blanket hog and the occasional mule making a noise. You would never think it would be that loud.
Now back to my grandma. She’s my mom’s mom and my hero. Not only is she totally bad ass, would wrestle my little brother to the ground every Christmas until her 70s. Loves to go on cross country motorcycle rides. But she also has so much strength, raising my mom and uncles once my grandpa became an alcoholic. Hell she even gets her dental work done with no Novocain. Nuts if you ask me. Dealing with my uncle ALWAYS being sick and worse and worse, until he died this year. A few months after that we learned that she had lymphoma and is was spreading pretty fast. But there she was strong as ever, letting them take bone marrow (which I have heard hurt so so bad and well and the Nulasta they give you to get red blood cells to grow from your bones. Everyone says it’s the worse pain) but she said it’s ok. Her hair was falling out and she got a wig, you would never know it was a wig. But I ask her, “doesn’t bother you that your hair is falling out?” And she just looks at me and says, “No, it’s not like my hair is long like yours hun.” But also she just shows this unconditional love. I don’t think that there could be anything in the WORLD I could do that would make my grandma love me any less. She was always there. No matter what my brother and I was doing, baseball, orchestra, track, football, choir. She was always there. Freezing her ass off at my brother’s games, even after chemo.
Sorry there will be so many blogs. I have a lot to write and I haven't blogged in awhile.
Alright I said that I was going to write a blog about my shitty last week. Not that this one turned out to be much better. I really hope things get better soon!
Sunday night I came home because Sean knows I can’t sleep there and I had to work the next day. Well I couldn’t sleep worth a freaking damn. So I got my ass up around for work. I got through work just dragging, I’m tired, not feeling so great and it’s a Monday. I didn’t get everything done and tell my boss that. I said that I would stay but I have classes that night. I think ok, no big deal, WRONG.
I got to class to get one of my assignments back. F. Are you kidding me 9/15? It was for my death and dying class. Questions like who do you want to be there when you die, who do you want told right away, who do you want told later. COME ON. I want who ever wants to be there to be there. My family isn’t retarded they will tell people in the when they are ready to in the order that they believe they should be told. Its not like we haven’t had to deal with death before. My family isn’t retarded. I don’t need to hold their hand and walk them though it, after I die. (Yeah that sounds strange I know). I asked her about it. I told her that I can’t FORM an opinion if I don’t HAVE an opinion. But she just wasn’t going to budge. I was pissed. SO then I sit down to take my exam, most of the questions I have no fucking idea where they are coming from! And I have ACTUALLY been going to class! So I’m about ready to cry right freaking there. Go I get done and go home, at home I run into the god damn door and think I broke my little toe on my right foot. I don’t think it’s actually BROKEN now, but I don’t know what you would call it.
But I ice it, set it, tape it and try to get some sleep which didn’t work AGAIN.
Tuesday, I got into work with a messed up toe. You never think how much you use you little toe when you walk! So I take some pain pills and on a mission to reduce the stress I’ve been feeling at work by getting what I didn’t get done Monday day plus much more. So there I go, well 2pm comes up and the manager starts helping me. I’m like, “Really, I’m fine.” He just says, “Yeah, I want to get you out of here by 2.” Um I had planned on staying late to work and now he’s not going to let me. I LOST it I was so pissed. I have so much to do. Finish truck, run and clean up back stock, run 7 pages of DC paperwork, and clean up my areas in general. Why? Because no one gave a shit while I wasn’t there, no one ever helps me, ever, no else knows what I have to do or how much. I just totally lost it. Having a panic attack and crying and shit. I think the lack of sleep was getting to me. So I calm down enough to call my boss and home and tell him the situation. Apparently he and the manager think I “Stand around talking to much.” FUCK THAT! I don’t more than the fucking manger does that’s for damn fucking sure. I explained my situation and he said I could stay an extra hour, hour and a half. Fine. I win. I end up so fucking tired from the panic attack that I only stay like 45 minutes. I was SO freaking tired after all that, that I didn’t think I could drive so I ended up sleeping in my car for a couple of hours. My HOT car, before heading home. So now I have to head home, do all the cleaning and laundry that I neglected, which took longer than expected. However my dad (step dad- Wayne) and I had like a 2 hour long talk about my grandma, which I’ll get to, my mom, my brother, my real dad and everything else. Then we got some ice cream like I was 10.Which was nice. So by the time I got to Sean’s it was like 11pm. Which is ok, we are pretty much night owls anyway. The issue starts the next morning.
Sean’s Brother has been working on the house and we wake up to banging. We had enough to we leave, pjs and all and get in my car and drive out to the “Farm”. So nice and quiet, although Sean is a blanket hog and the occasional mule making a noise. You would never think it would be that loud.
Now back to my grandma. She’s my mom’s mom and my hero. Not only is she totally bad ass, would wrestle my little brother to the ground every Christmas until her 70s. Loves to go on cross country motorcycle rides. But she also has so much strength, raising my mom and uncles once my grandpa became an alcoholic. Hell she even gets her dental work done with no Novocain. Nuts if you ask me. Dealing with my uncle ALWAYS being sick and worse and worse, until he died this year. A few months after that we learned that she had lymphoma and is was spreading pretty fast. But there she was strong as ever, letting them take bone marrow (which I have heard hurt so so bad and well and the Nulasta they give you to get red blood cells to grow from your bones. Everyone says it’s the worse pain) but she said it’s ok. Her hair was falling out and she got a wig, you would never know it was a wig. But I ask her, “doesn’t bother you that your hair is falling out?” And she just looks at me and says, “No, it’s not like my hair is long like yours hun.” But also she just shows this unconditional love. I don’t think that there could be anything in the WORLD I could do that would make my grandma love me any less. She was always there. No matter what my brother and I was doing, baseball, orchestra, track, football, choir. She was always there. Freezing her ass off at my brother’s games, even after chemo.