I honestly think something is wrong with me...
Since forever, I've known that emotionally I'm "out of touch". Things that upset other people have never even gave me pause. I take the best and worst of news like I'm reading about stocks that I don't invest in. Really, that has never bothered me. Dare I say I'm more proud of the fact than anything.
Today though, I believe it maaaaay go deeper than that. I might actually be a bit fucked up in the head. Hannibal style... without the smarts. See, even as casually as the craziest news can be gathered by me. Bombings killing dozens, hurricanes devastating areas family members live in. Even personal things (good and bad) like winning a big flat screen TV, or having my dirt bike stolen from me... twice. My biggest response has always been "... Seriously? o_O"
This morning I got a call from my mom, that I could barely make out over her sobbing and snotting all over the mouthpiece of the phone she was on. But I made out that, Frank. A good family friend. My mom's first husband. Not to mention a guy that as far as personal worth to me goes... sat somewhere between my own mom and dad. (Meaning, the only person I cared for more than him... was my own dad. Mom held a place snugly under Frank) Frank had died. Last night.
I expected before that there would be a few people in my life that could FORCE a reaction out of me. Be it from tragedy or awesomeness. My dad, Frank... maybe my mom, and a handful of my best friends.
However, when I was told that Frank was dead... nothing. Not a throat clear, a sigh, not even a stomach growl. In fact my first thought was, "Fuck me... his house was willed to me. Now I'll have to figure out how to finish the payments on that, too."
Then his brother calls and tells my mom that because I am the main benefactor of his will... I am also supposed to pay for his cremation and services. Ugh. I just put ALL of my money into a dirt bike.
Looks like he's getting a viking cremation. I just wonder if my dad's BBQ grill is big enough to catch the ashes.
What?
Today though, I believe it maaaaay go deeper than that. I might actually be a bit fucked up in the head. Hannibal style... without the smarts. See, even as casually as the craziest news can be gathered by me. Bombings killing dozens, hurricanes devastating areas family members live in. Even personal things (good and bad) like winning a big flat screen TV, or having my dirt bike stolen from me... twice. My biggest response has always been "... Seriously? o_O"
This morning I got a call from my mom, that I could barely make out over her sobbing and snotting all over the mouthpiece of the phone she was on. But I made out that, Frank. A good family friend. My mom's first husband. Not to mention a guy that as far as personal worth to me goes... sat somewhere between my own mom and dad. (Meaning, the only person I cared for more than him... was my own dad. Mom held a place snugly under Frank) Frank had died. Last night.
I expected before that there would be a few people in my life that could FORCE a reaction out of me. Be it from tragedy or awesomeness. My dad, Frank... maybe my mom, and a handful of my best friends.
However, when I was told that Frank was dead... nothing. Not a throat clear, a sigh, not even a stomach growl. In fact my first thought was, "Fuck me... his house was willed to me. Now I'll have to figure out how to finish the payments on that, too."
Then his brother calls and tells my mom that because I am the main benefactor of his will... I am also supposed to pay for his cremation and services. Ugh. I just put ALL of my money into a dirt bike.
Looks like he's getting a viking cremation. I just wonder if my dad's BBQ grill is big enough to catch the ashes.
What?