Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Saturday, March 19, 2016
We broke up the Tuesday night before Easter. It was in April that year, but I go by landmark dates, like the Tuesday before Easter, and that Tuesday is coming up. I didn't take any days off from work. ANY days. I was a temp so I didn't have sick time, personal time, or anything to show for it. Being a temp was like I wasn't even there. My official hire date is the day I went perm, so the fucking horror show I lived through as temp didn't even register as me working for the company. I would have had to take the sick time unpaid, and while I could have, I was too afraid to tell my boss what had happened. As a temp I spent my whole time tiptoeing around as if I was still in a job interview, and I had a different boss back then and wasn't as comfortable talking to him about things. So I went to work for three more days after the breakup. I wasn't even eating, but I went to work. Then I found out I'd be training for a new position the following week. That is already so fucking stressful and I was NOT in any way well enough to do that. The Saturday after the breakup, I wanted to just visit a friend and cry on them all day, but I had to clean my stuff out of my ex's apartment. It needed to be done, and the sooner, the better, so I did that on Saturday. Then there was Sunday. The first day that I SHOULD have had off to myself, to do what I wanted to do which was to just talk about my feelings and cry and cuddle all day long, but it was Easter, so I was stuck going to visit my grandma in the nursing home. Now, I didn't have an apartment of my own back then. I lived with my parents, so going to Easter meant that I couldn't go and visit a friend. If I hadn't had to go to Easter, I would have spent my whole day with a friend and slept over at their house, but I never got to do that because I was expected to go to Easter when I was having a fucking crisis. I was in a crisis and I had to wait MORE THAN A WEEK before i had a day to myself to just do what i wanted to do because of fucking work and fucking Easter.
Why ANYONE would think that I would still go to Easter again after that happened is beyond me.
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
You know, summer of 2012, (the summer in between my grad school semesters - yuck!!!), my ex and I went for a walk around my neighborhood, and I told him that ever since I went to college, I had been farther away from where I wanted to be than I ever had been in my entire life, including when I was a baby. And now, being this close to finished, I feel like I AM very close to where I want to be. I'm not going to say that I'm the closest I've ever been, because I've had times that I felt this great about things before and there's no reason to compare them, but this is one of those times. I'm so close to where I want to be, and so far from where I don't want to be. I never thought I'd say that again.
I remember when I was a senior in college, in the absolute worst time of my life, I promised myself that I would never forget. That if I ever got out and things got better and I was happy again, I would never go around attributing that happiness to my own doings and acting like everyone should just be happy. I would always understand that things were circumstantial and never forget how bad things can be. And I haven't forgotten.
Back when I was in college and in the years right after, I felt like my younger self would be so ashamed of what I had become. In fact, I felt that way during grad school, and also when I first got my job. She would just be so disappointed in me. I was nothing like what she dreamed of becoming. And now, when I think I about my book, I realize that my younger self would be very proud of me. Because I'm standing up for her. That little girl who was forced to go to school and obey grownups against her will? I'm standing up for her in this book and finally telling all those grownups that they had no business trying to control her. And you know something? My college self would be sooooooo proud of me writing this book. I stand up to everyone who mistreated her. I think the me at every stage of my life would be proud of this book. And that's saying a lot. I know I still have a long road to getting published, but in some ways, I feel like I've already made it.