So my boyfriend left me. I know! I'm a catch, but apparently I'm not what he wants. Okay, that's fine. I'm kind of a mess lately. I find bathing and eating tedious and work is a major escape for me. If I'm busy being nice to old ladies, I don't think about how I'm all alone and he doesn't love me. Talking about it is like picking at a scab and it bleeds and I know that one day...one day I'll peel back the scab and there will be a little pink layer that doesn't bleed and maybe I'll be marked for a while... or even forever... but I'll keep right on going.
My house was robbed, so that was something new. My neighborhood has gone to shit. I'm suddenly surrounded by crackheads. Whaaa...when did that happen? Fuck! They call me all the time because when I met Bo' and Nikki they seemed nice enough but it turns out they were really crackheads who break into your place and do horrible things to you and then when you complain to the landlord because the manager isn't answering his phone, he acts like you're the one being a pain in the ass.
School starts soon. I'm excited about that I guess. It's hard to muster enthusiasm.
My mom is dying, and that is very distracting. She's entered the last months/weeks sort of stages. Dad doesn't think she'll live much longer and after reading up on the signs/phases of dying and observing/assessing my mom I would tend to agree. Part of me knows that I'm biased...that I semi-secretly wish Mom would die. Deep down I'm going to be relieved because we can start to heal once it's finally over with.
On the positive side, this whole degree program will be O-V-E-R as of December 11th!