Sunday, July 07, 2013

I'm Pretty Sure I'm Broken

So.  Our computer's busted.  Well, just the little mouse pad dealie is busted, but it makes it impossible to navigate anything at all.

I'm not going to lie, I feel like I'm missing my right arm.

Good thing Husband is so... *ahem* generous in letting me use his iPad with keyboard attachment or else I'd have no other way to communicate with my dozens of adoring readers.

Of course, I have to fight for the right to use the iPad.  In between Carolyn thinking it's hers for the sole purpose of watching billions of Curious George videos and Husband using it for work, I get approximately 10 seconds daily in which to do what I want to do.  And it's usually after my bedtime.  Like right now.  Because it's 9:40 and since I'm an old lady, I was supposed to be asleep 10 minutes ago.

It has been a hard, hard week for me.

Dealing with people who I've never wanted to deal with over issues which I've never wanted to discuss because they're so freaking ridiculous, it makes me cringe.

And wowee, does that wear you out.  I'm so, so tired, and yet, I've been unable to sleep well for weeks, which makes me even more tired and yes, cranky.  Can you even imagine?

A young girl at church was killed in a car accident.

I didn't know her well, and yet, it hit me hard.

Not because of anything about her in particular, but because I know how it feels.

I know how it feels to wake up the next morning and hope it was all a horrible, horrible dream.

To see a pair of her shoes and burst into tears.

After the funeral, when everyone resumes their normal lives and yet yours will never, ever be the same.

And you believe that you will see them again, and you believe in eternal families, and yet you wonder why on earth she got to go and you didn't and why it has to hurt so bad.

And you still wonder that even fifteen years later.

Because it doesn't just go away.

Beside that, I've been searching for tickets to get the hell out of Texas.  There comes a point every, single year wherein I think, "For the LOVE!  I just have to get out of here!"

But then you realize that if you leave, you have no paid vacation.  And with a baby on the way and two  months of unpaid maternity leave coming soon, things might just fall right apart.

So, that slips away, and in it's place is nothing but longing and despair because you've got to go home, you've just got to, but you can't, so be and adult and suck it up already.

It makes you realize that growing up isn't everything it was advertised when you were in high school.

And then you write a depressing post about it because that's pretty much the only way I know how to deal with things, which, if you think about it, is pretty pathetically sad.

1 comment:

Emily Tree said...

Have you looked at Spirit Airlines? They fly out of Houston to many places. I recently found a roundtrip ticket to Vegas for $100. Not that that helps with your later maternity leave lack of income but, um, if you ever want to run away....