What is This Thing You Call… Sleep?

What is This Thing You Call… Sleep?

I’m back from the dead you guys.  Well.. sort of.

I’m very much here… just not very much alert.  You’d think I’d be used to lack of sleep being that I haven’t actually slept for, oh… two years.  Nah.  I’m not used to it.  But some stuff has gone down since September… and since I know you’re DYING to know… Ok, so you’re not dying to know.  But you’re going to find out anyway, so go grab a beer, sit down & listen up.

Aaron left for Afghanistan last month.  Somehow this was harder than the last time.  I guess ’cause it’s actually worse over there.  That & they should have all been home years ago, but that’s neither here nor there.  Anyway, Bud left last month, so to commemorate, we had an early Thanksgiving.  It was nice, but as always, Senor Turkey left about 3 pounds of himself behind.  ON MY ASS.  Which is great & all, except that I’m trying desperately to lose said ass (56 pounds down, by the way.  WORD!).  So far he’s ok, but is not able to communicate much, which goes without saying (sorry.. had to).  Haven’t heard much so far, so I don’t have any updates.  Hopefully will know something soon.

Also, I just withdrew from school.  I’m a little bummed out, but I’ve got a good GPA & didn’t want to risk flushing it down the hypothetical toilet.  There’s so much crap going on around here I just couldn’t focus the way I needed to.  As it turns out, I had a “C” at mid-term.  Not great, but not bad considering I thought I’d already tanked.  Looking on the bright side, though, I will at least be better prepared for the spring.  I’m not sure Radiology is what I’ll stick with, so I’ll probably pick up my pre-req’s before heading back into A&P.  Until that point I’ll be doing some serious thinking about our future and what momma’s going to do.

To be honest, I’m really quite frustrated.  There is so much that I would rock, but those things would take so many more years to complete.  A four-year degree should not take 10 years, and I’m afraid that’s what it will boil down to.  Radiology just isn’t for me, ya know?  It’s interesting… yadda yadda yadda.  But interesting isn’t going to help me pass, will it?  I loved Psychology.  I did amazingly well in that class, and would love to continue that.  But my goal here is to not be a professional student.  My goal here is to get out with all limbs intact, if not a little bruised, so that I can provide a decent life for my kid.  I’ve screwed myself, really.  I should have done this years ago when I had the opportunity.  I know, I know… shoulda, woulda, coulda’s ass.  I can’t live in the past… I know.  But I could just kick myself.  For such an intelligent human being, I can really pull off a bone-headed move. 

I am twenty-three, never married, living with my parents & my toddler.  This is not the worst thing in the world; of that I’m fully aware.  But for me?  It’s damn near close.  I am independent… I am strong-willed… and I feel… stuck.  I love all things creative.  I love to help people.  I like making a difference.  And not for the recognition… but for benefit.  I like the feeling, and the feeling alone, of helping someone.  For that split second life feels… livable.  It doesn’t seem bleak and suffocating.  Making a difference is what I want to do.  Being creative is what I want to do.  But let’s be honest… let’s be real.  Volunteer work doesn’t pay the bills and it won’t buy my kid bigger pants.  Likewise, creativity doesn’t necessarily pay well, and anyone with a hands-on, good-paying, creative job is probably hanging onto it for dear life. 

I thought seriously about, and still kind of am I guess, changing my major (AGAIN) to education, only to later expand into psychology of some sort, for high school counseling.  I think I’d be good at it.  It’d pay the bills and fulfill what I want from a CAREER… not just a job.  What I want is a lifestyle… something to be proud of.  I don’t want power & prestige… I don’t want a title… I don’t want a Mercedes.  I want to help.  Even more, I want Gabe to look at me & be proud.  I want him to have that.  I don’t want him to see me as someone who settles for mediocrity… because then, I fear, he’ll do the same.  I’m wringing my hands not knowing what to do.  It is certainly discouraging feeling like a let-down to your two-year old.

Right now I know all he’s worried about is an ample supply of Gatorade & maybe a banana or two.  Right now I know he’s happy riding his trike outside or watching Curious George.  He doesn’t know what’s going on, and right now believes that momma’s capable, because that’s what he has known thus far.  But like any other parent, I fear failing my kid.  And, like any other parent, I fear I already have.

Anyway.  So between all the crap & the SERIOUS lack of sleep (not kidding… Gabe’s been getting up every morning for the past month & a half wanting to “go ‘side??!!” [outside, for the toddler-less]), I’m here.  I’m breathing… ish.  Halloween pictures tomorrow.  Gabe was a hobo this year.  Pretty damn cute, I gotta say.  😉  And his zombie-freak momma’s not so bad either.  Well… maybe with a little make-up.  Ok… and some caffeine.

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