Funday Sunday

I have had a draining week. Yet. Its about to happen again at 12:00 am.  I have been through so

much in a very small time. That a lesser woman would be on her knees and bend over in pain.

Me, I am watching Elementary, I’ve had some broccoli with cheese for breakfast. And some

cookies. Taking calls until 11:00 pm. I went to bed at a little after 5:00 am. So I am running on

fumes. I am not complaining mind you. I’m stating facts. My life has never been normal. As I

think back on it its never been that way. When I was kid me and my mom before she had to go in

to work and make money. Spent three happy months in VA. I suppose, even though my mom

always promised herself and me that we’d never move back there. I always knew I would!

With or without here living there with me. Of course I would come back and visit she’s my only

living family that I have always had a relationship with. A happy one. So knew there would simply

be a lot of traveling back and forth for me.  Yet some of the best times ever happened to me

when we moved there in 1995. We walked down the road to the nearest 7/11 anytime of the

day. It was also this little pharmacy that sold these amazing pancakes. She had to help me up

on the Stoll because of my long but short legs for that age. Me and my mother had the club

right in our house. She taught me how to make nonalcoholic drinks. Music. We covered

the lamps with colorful hand chiefs. It was good. We stayed up all night long watching

movies. Then we slept all day unless it was wash day, or she was taking me out on

the playground. Through all of the times that I have been homeless as a child. Once at 16

years. That was a memory. A sweet one that got me through the day. The hour. The minutes.

Every time there was trouble, I thought about that time before she had to go to work.

Now I know that I am making it seem like it was abnormal for a parent to go to work.

For me. It is. See my mom dedicated herself to becoming the female version

of her daddy. He was a hard working man. Literally. He went from working in the

fields as a child, to getting a high school diploma, to going to work as a janitor by day

an going to night school by night to be a wielder. Once he was done and done paying

for that, he was continuing as a janitor by day, then working at night long at the Ship yard

by night. Handworker. Her mother was the exact opposite. So she made a choice to

step right into his shoes. She worked. Worked. Then turned around and worked some more.

While other people went in and work one shift. My mom went in and worked three of them.

On top of that, making bad choices with a dude. The dude being my dad. She mainly walked

to and from work. Now I want say the locations but I did the math from using the Google

maps. 9.8 miles to and from work. So all together 19.6 miles for her walk. No including

3 shifts at work. So when I say to everyone I really didn’t have my mother. I mean that. I never

saw her. Got to talk to her. At 5 years old I was raising my damn self. Trying to figure it all out

on my own. No babysitter. No help from my mothers side or my daddy’s side.

Sunday Funday. I say that because things haven’t changed much from when I was a kid. I had a

hard way to go back then. I have one now. Last night I was in so much pain. Migraines. Stress.

I do the best that I can to have a good life, build on a new one. People think its so damn

easy being me. I am here to tell you that its not. There’s a million and 1 things I’d

love to be doing today. What I am doing now isn’t one of them. So how fun is this Sunday?