I was so very sick of all this stuff the other day. I was ready to give it all up, just quit and start over somewhere else.... I hate the sound of the tv when I'm writing. It just... distracts. So I turned it off. That is an irrelevant fact. I'm just free writing here. Just winging it. Just typing my thoughts in the best grammar I am capable of.
Okay. My day starts at 4 in the morning. I wake up to the disgusting dissonance of my worn out alarm clock and allow myself to doze until 4:30. Then I panic and jump out of bed in a shellshock state. I get myself and everything I need for the day ready, usually excluding a lunch and/or breakfast and I book it to the bus stop which is a block away. I wait for the bus which is late almost everyday, get to the train and take it a few stops to my next connection. All this takes about 25 minutes. Then I jump on another bus packed with middle aged construction workers and ride it for half an hour to the closest stop that is near my work. I walk three blocks and arrive at my destination. Hell on earth. aka, the bindery. I make books all day. It can be the most physical job imaginable or the most boring job imaginable depending on the book. Some have to be made by hand, some are made on gigantor machines that can tear your whole torso off. I work with blades that weigh hundreds of pounds. I work with metal rollers that can peel the skin off your whole arm in the blink of an eye without you even noticing. It can be intense. So anyways, you know those planners/agendas you got in school? The ones with the white coils that allowed you to flip through all the little calendars of the months and the sections for you to write your homework that you never did anyways in? With all the useless facts on the top of the pages? Yeah. I made those. By hand. Hundreds of thousands of them. Me and maybe 5 other women. That's an example of a boring book.
An example of an exciting book is the road sense book for drivers. I make those too. I don't want to get into it though. It's next to impossible to explain.
ugh. I don't know why I'm rambling about work. I'm just tired I guess. I don't get home until 5 and the week just caught up to me.
I guess what I'm getting at is that my life has not gone anywhere that I had wanted it too. It's still early, I know. But forgodsake it's been a year and I have nothing to show for anything.
I could go to school. Or I could stick around where I'm working now and move up. I could have a good career in bindery but what if I want to have children? Oh god. It's all so confusing. I wish I could just... but isn't the point of life to make yourself happy? To make the ones you love happy? damnit.
My boyfriend and I have decided to move in together next year.
Sometimes I hate writing this shit down. I'll do it and then immediately see the flaws in everything. It's as if seeing it on the computer screen is like reading someone else's life and judging it.
We have plans to live in Scotland for a year.
You have to do crazy things while you're young. It's the only time you can, really. Arghhhhddddddddddddddhhshdjshajhdsjka. It's time to do the dishes and figure out what I want to think about.
My mom's gone now. My boyfriend is going to be gone too. My dad is also gone. My stepdad will be leaving soon as well. My best friend was never there. I'll be empty. Alone.
But that's allright.
I have God. God will fill me. God will be everything I lost. God will take my cancers away. God will kiss it all better. But where is God? In the sky? I've looked so many times. In the ocean? He's either too deep or maybe I just see the sky's reflection.
Maybe you can't see him.
I sure as hell can't. I can barely feel him anymore. It makes me sad. I'm so tired of being empty. Empty skies and empty oceans.
I'm lonely. Wait, no I'm not. Well, I kind of am. My mom's gone, my boyfriend (argh! I hate that term!) will soon be on a different shift and our relationship will be put on part time, my stepdad is always working, and it seems everyone works opposite hours of me!
Could someone hook me up with some cheese for this whine?
Does anyone else have a severe fear of change in this godforsaken world or is it just me? I know that once everything is done and over with I'll adjust and carry on, but how the hell do people get to that mind state where they just...accept it immediately.
Life is getting scarier and scarier as I get older. Especially now that my mom is gone. I have to worry about everything she did. Like the house. I clean everything. I take note of everything that needs repairing. I only pay 1/4 of the rent, so I really can't complain, but I have a fear of doing anything wrong... missing something. I actually have to watch what I'm eating because heaven forbid I get sick. I can't miss any work! Being independant is frightening.
I'm pinning all my hopes on a boy now.
Ha.
It sounds stupid. But this is a special boy... possibly "the one" ? I guess we'll see. I've never felt all that connected to other people. I'm really a sort of standoffish person, and I seem to attract other standoffish people creating these big pain in the ass complicated standoffish but oh so deeply intimate messes. So that's why this boy is so special. He's not all that standoffish at all, and he's a best friend to me before... boyfriend. I hate that term because it's puerile.
Unfortunately, it looks like his job is going to be putting him on the late shift for the next month. He'll be working 3pm- 11pm. I will be, and am always working 7am-3:30pm. But I leave at 5:30am and get home at 5:00pm and need to be in bed at like 9pm because I wake up at a ridiculous 4am so seeing him at 11pm is preposterous.
So our every day, every second day meetings will be sliced down to weekends only. Not that it matters. We can overcome something so trivial and short. No problem.
But then the fucking military get's involved.
This morning he got a call from them and they want him in Quebec this September to start training. This would be until December when he would probably be sent either to Afghanistan or some barren place in Alberta for who knows what.
He had his physical the week before last and he's in excellent shape. They want him to start immediately.
We've gone through this before.
When they first accepted him, last year, during our on and off phase, we had gone to the city and were drinking, just the two of us. Just so we could spend some quality time together. We ended up sitting at this beautiful little spot on the corner of a couple famously busy streets. Hockey was on that night, so the city was really buzzing. We were walking down the street, trying to scout out a secret place to drink our booze when we found these little cement steps that lead up to a path. It was practically in the centre of the city and all it's lights, but it still needed the old style lamp posts to keep it from being completely dark. We sat on a little grassy hill facing the path and were concealed by thick brush and small trees from the street. There were gorgeous red and blue flowers surrounding us. The path lead down to some more stairs which were also really dark, but despite how many people were out that night, no one came up them except a couple and their dog.
He was drinking Heineken and I was drinking Smirnoff Ice coolers. We weren't completely loaded, but we were slightly tipsy. I remember him acting really reserved and quiet. Then he told me he had been accepted into the military and could be sent to Quebec and then, if he wanted to go, Afghanistan. I told him that I was proud of him. He was on his way to doing something he had always dreamed of doing. I tried to be strong. I tried not to cry, but I've never been all that great at controlling these things. He gave me a hug and held me close as I cried even harder, never wanting him to go. He told me I meant the world to him.
So he's still deciding. I know he wants me to outright tell him I don't want him to go. I don't believe that such a young man should have to give up his future. I think the military should be for the people who have no destination. But then again, those are the people who have nothing to fight for. Maybe it should be the people like my boyfriend. The people who are planning a life and have something to work towards. The people who have something to motivate them to keep this country what it is.
I don't want him to die. I don't want him to leave. I don't want to lose him and my mother to this country. I won't ever tell him that though. I'll keep telling him what I always tell him. "This is your decision. In the end, you will be affected the most. I'll love you through anything you do."
