"Now that is a name I have not heard in a long time, ...a long time"
The past weeks have been despairingly pugnacious, not only in terms of work and its arrangements, but also in terms of what I've had to deal with between doctor's visits, the surgery, the recovery...none of which has even by a shadow compared to the emotional turmoil that my family has put me through in the past 48 hours. My elderly grandparents came to see me on Saturday, my grandfather, veteran of WWII, having earned 5 battle stars, been discharged as a 1st Sergeant, fathered 5 children, lived through one of the daughters dying of breast cancer in 94, worked through the great depression, became a legislator of his county and finally deputy commissioner of labor until age 72 (right before the Twin Towers were hit THE FIRST time) is now suffering Alzheimer's, and quite literally all of the grandiose stories for which he was famous (and had I not been an avid collector of the same) would now be officially gone. In any case, those were the pair that came to see me on Saturday, and my grandmother, having been through, unless I'm mistaken, two double hip replacements, felt that if I needed or wanted for anything, she should pester my poor father about it. But, I know her game, so I just kept telling her that I didn't need anything. My uncle, who, in previous journals has been affectionately termed Coronel Cockbag, and his Aryan nation brood decided to venture over here on Sunday, and in the midst of my suffering berate me for feeling not just a little apathetic regarding my current choice of professions, and feeling the need to start branching out into the more art related field for which I have spent so much time shedding tears and blood. Then he made sure to tell me that I shouldn't ever expect any sort of respect in the work place because of my chose profession, and that on top of that, maybe alway try to 'rep Latino' was part of what was bringing me down. At the same time, he turned around and was sure to ask for my help on a new business venture, because he can't speak to the day laborers he wants to hire. Shortly after that my sister texts me and sez, she's not coming back to the folks' place tonight cuz she's having too much fun getting back together with the ex-boyfriend.
Now, why is this last statement such a problem? Well, let me tell you: My apartment, immediately pre-operative, was seen to have bedbugs. I immediately began cleaning everything and throwing out any piece of paper, clothing, or object that wasn't absolutely necessary. Then, during the few days I was in the hospital, I asked that the carpet in the bedroom (the only room with carpet in it,) be removed by the super. Mom went in shortly thereafter because she was simply not satisfied with the condition of the place, with some help, granted, and did a bang up clean up job. The exterminators were scheduled for today at 1pm. Appointments with the vet were made for both animals as well as boarding instructions and post fumigation cleaning with ma's own home-cleaning team (the girls that do her house) Fast forward to last night. Txt msg from K (10pm): "Not coming home tnite, having too much fun! lolz. c u tmw!" And cue caniption fit from everyone. Called Philth, he couldn't make it happen and neither could his out of work gf(interviews - which, I totally understand), Santo Mincho called a couple of his people in the city and no go. No cousins were gonna cooperate with me, so, that was out. So, woke up dis mornin, fed myself an omelet, put on the anti-embolitic socks, took some ibuprofen, got dressed, found the key to ma's car, trooped downstairs, and just happened to squeeze into the elevator with a family that was also going to the garage at the same time (after some waiting) and they were sympathetic enough to even hold the door for me (cuz I couldn't find my keys into the garage, you see,) took my house keys down to da Bx, yo, enlisted the aid of the super's wife, chased down the girls, got em in the carrying cage, loaded em in the Rav, and then when I got to the vet's enlisted his aid in getting them out of the car.
Did I mention this is all 6 days post surgery? I thought so.
Sorry for the ramble, but, here is the only cathartic exercise that I have...
Now, why is this last statement such a problem? Well, let me tell you: My apartment, immediately pre-operative, was seen to have bedbugs. I immediately began cleaning everything and throwing out any piece of paper, clothing, or object that wasn't absolutely necessary. Then, during the few days I was in the hospital, I asked that the carpet in the bedroom (the only room with carpet in it,) be removed by the super. Mom went in shortly thereafter because she was simply not satisfied with the condition of the place, with some help, granted, and did a bang up clean up job. The exterminators were scheduled for today at 1pm. Appointments with the vet were made for both animals as well as boarding instructions and post fumigation cleaning with ma's own home-cleaning team (the girls that do her house) Fast forward to last night. Txt msg from K (10pm): "Not coming home tnite, having too much fun! lolz. c u tmw!" And cue caniption fit from everyone. Called Philth, he couldn't make it happen and neither could his out of work gf(interviews - which, I totally understand), Santo Mincho called a couple of his people in the city and no go. No cousins were gonna cooperate with me, so, that was out. So, woke up dis mornin, fed myself an omelet, put on the anti-embolitic socks, took some ibuprofen, got dressed, found the key to ma's car, trooped downstairs, and just happened to squeeze into the elevator with a family that was also going to the garage at the same time (after some waiting) and they were sympathetic enough to even hold the door for me (cuz I couldn't find my keys into the garage, you see,) took my house keys down to da Bx, yo, enlisted the aid of the super's wife, chased down the girls, got em in the carrying cage, loaded em in the Rav, and then when I got to the vet's enlisted his aid in getting them out of the car.
Did I mention this is all 6 days post surgery? I thought so.
Sorry for the ramble, but, here is the only cathartic exercise that I have...