We dropped my classes yesterday so now all I have is what I had in the summer--this apartment. I have no reason to get dressed or put on makeup. Jamie's schedule is really getting to me. He goes to school from 9-3 Monday, Weds, and Friday and Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday he works. Friday he works at 5, so its pretty much like he's gone all day and Saturday he usually works noon to 10 or 11pm. I feel like a single mom. I just am so lonely and worn out, and its taking a toll on my mothering.
Sometimes I get somewhat bitter that he gets all this time to himself and I get none. That his job ends at a specific time and mine goes on and on and on. That he's going to school and I'm not. He's working on his life and I'm not. And he just always has all these places to go. They are all errands and what not, but it gets him out of the house. His mom's to do her bills, the library for school, the bank, the health food store, the gym. I just wish I had something to do and somewhere to go. I need my liscense.
I think I'm going to try and get a job in December and maybe find a photography class to take just for fun. I need something. I can't be cooped up in here all day every day.
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In other news, I went to my Dad's yesterday to look through pictures and old memories that we might like to take before he tanks it all. (Joy burned all the pictures of her late husband and wanted my Dad to do the same.....yeah. I know.) So, going through, I found my parents wedding pictures, which were fun. I never knew how much my Dad looked like my nephew Aaron at age 20. They could be twins! I grabbed some old pictures of me and a few videos so far, but Marci was sick yesterday so we had to come home quickly.
The thing I found that I liked the best, however, is my uncle Frank...my Mom's very beloved brother's journal. Frank was an ARTIST. I've heard so many stories about him. About how creative he was, how deep he was, how much into POT he was (My Dad always has to bring that up when we talk about him) and just how cool he was. When we found his journal yesterday, my sister Tia sighed and said "Oh. He reminds me of you a lot. You would have really liked him. Everyone did." He shot himself in the head when his wife Ellen left him. I think he was only in his 30's. I never got to meet him, but I feel somewhat connected to him. Anyway, his journal is SO interesting. It's not a day-to-day account journal. It's filled with poems, story ideas, stoned ramblings, and deep jottings. The thing that stood out to me was this:
"12/21/66. In the course of a day, what could happen to an intellegent man to convince him to commit suicide--swiftly and almost unexpectedly (but not entirely); meaning that perhaps he does have a self-destructive, but hidden drive. What could happen to convince the 'good' man to commit suicide?"
And on the last page of the journal, is my mom's writing. Just a to-do list. Call Sears, Call Sinchak Funeral Home, Write speech for Frank, Write police station, Pay flowers
I think its so sad that both my Mom's daughter and my daughters have a wonderful uncle that they will never know due to suicide.