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Thursday, January 28, 2010


I will apologize in advance for posting something that could be described as passive-aggressive. I don't normally like to be that way, but I am at the end of my rope and I am only saying all of this once. And besides, this way every single person in the world has the option to see exactly what I said in one place so my words can't be twisted and used to fuck me over a million years from now.

Got it? OK, that's good.

People have been asking me what happened to my vacation. Well, lots of things happened, but mainly my priorities changed, and it's just not feasible.

First of all, my sister-in-law had a little baby, and I love my little Juanito. And I still haven't gotten to meet him yet. He lives in Miami, and it involves taking vacation time to go visit him. And apparently it's just not acceptable for the favorite aunt to wait to long to see her sobrino. I only get two weeks of vacation time and they dock me if I am late with a flat tire, so needless to say I have to incorporate family time into the schedule. Because after this past year, I've learned at the end of the day all you have is family.

Second of all, I don't know if you all remember, but I went a little crazy. And, let me tell you, crazy is expensive. $50 bucks a week for therapy, four different meds priced between $9 and $50 each. Yeah, save up before you have a nervous breakdown.

All of that might have been OK if I'd gotten any hours at Christmas from toyland. As you'll remember, that is how I pay for vacation every year. I use the money that I make working 30-40 hours a week there at Christmastime for my fun money. Well, so needless to say, there wasn't much fun to be had when I was scheduled for four hours the week after Thanksgiving.

So,here I am with not nearly as much money as usual, and I've gone nuts. You can judge me now if you'd like (because let's be honest, you were going to anyhow), but I put my sanity before everything else in the world. And every week when I go to the pharmacy and my therapist, I put it on a credit card. Yet, there are still some people in America who don't believe we need health care reform. (Have I mentioned that my insurance premiums are over $500 a month and I STILL have to put health care costs on a credit card?)

Now I sit. Maxed out credit card. New nephew that I'd like to see if I can scrounge up a cheap plane ticket and sleep on my brother's couch (much cheaper than the dinner buffet at Caneel Bay). I am broke, and frankly, I still wish I were dead because some people just can't understand that I'd MUCH rather be sunning at Trunk Bay than crazy. I would much rather wake up every morning to the sound of the ocean hitting the rocks than the sound of my tears or uncontrollable vomiting.

And, now I'm sick. Or I should say, I know what is wrong with me. And it's not pretty, and it's expensive too. (Did I mention that our country desperately needs health care reform?)

But the nice thing about being sick is that it forces you to put your life in perspective. You figure out what's important and what isn't. You figure out who's really there for you and who's not.

And what I've realized is that the past is all done. And the future is finite. So, I need to make each and every day count to the best of my ability. And I'd like to think that I am doing that. I am working hard at my job. I am stopping to smell the roses and I am working on improving myself.

I am trying really hard to remember that you are only as good as the people you surround yourself with, and anyone would be lucky to have me in their life. Some people realize that, and some poeple don't. But, if you'd like to enjoy me, you better do it now, because I just have this feeling that I won't be around forever. And by forever, I just don't see it in my cards to grow old. I never have.

I can't worry about shit that happened years ago. I can't even remember shit that happened weeks ago. All I know is that I am not going to spend what time I have left on earth wondering why people are pissed off at me and crying over them blaming me for shit I didn't do and begging them to still love me. I have been there, and done that and all it does is show people that you don't mind them treating you like shit.

And I do mind. I hate it very much. It's not fair, and I'm sick of it.

I don't know much about having a compromised immune system, but for some reason I can't help but think that surrounding yourself with positivity can't help but make you feel better. God knows these disgusting multi-vitamins aren't doing the trick. I am getting negativity in all directions, and I'm not going to sit around worrying about bullshit all the time. I am not going to worry about getting cancer or vacations that are happening without me. I'm not even going to worry about the maxed out credit cards for Dr. Joan and Target pharmacy. I'll keep paying until they get paid. And being alive should be worth more than any 14 percent interest rate.

God will take care of me. I know that, and that is what I have to focus on. My faith, positive feelings and positive people.

If you don't want to be a part of that, have a good one. I'll be praying for you.

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