City-league soccer is winding down. Or picking up in a sense. All these last-minute tournaments, playoff games. Che. . .at least double-headers mean double the money. Even more for those tournaments.
As much as I hate to admit it, I think I'll miss not having this job come fall. Not the kids. Especially not the parents. But the chance to be some place open. Free.
We're never free though. Something's always binding. And anyone that says otherwise is blind in the worst way a human being can be.
Got another letter from her. She apologized for the lateness, but I don't know why she bothered with that. It's not like I'd hate her for something so. . .stupid. At least she writes. Even if I hate that.
She included pictures from my brother's birthday. Apparently they threw some big bash. Or I should say my father did. Gotta show off his number son. I knew there was a reason I didn't pick up the papers that week.
He didn't even send me a card. She says he misses me though. Like I can believe that. I still don't see how I deserved this. I haven't done anything. . . But I guess that's the problem.
I could really go for her cooking right now . . . .