(no subject)
Slowly getting better...
No, really.
The thing is, what happened, happened. I mean, I can't change that we were forced to leave the house in a matter of three hours. I can't change that all our things were piled up on the street. I can't change that we ended up putting everything in Mrs. Maritza's shop. I can't change that we didn't even know where our clothes were. That we spent days and days sorting out everything. That my underwear was packed in my pillow case or most of my clothes wrapped up in my sheets and comforter, left on the ground for an hour. It happened. And my parents needed me, needed my time, when I should have, in a way, spent it studying. I spent days, like, 20 in total probably, going to Mrs. Maritza house to sort everything out and put in boxes and moving our furniture and totally killing my back. I moved the washer myself. I moved this huge ass dresser myself. I moved everything I had move, and climbed on top of the furniture to get to more boxes and to eliminate as much as we could with as little space as we had. I had to.
I'm telling myself this, because this wasn't something I could have prevented. I missed classes because I was needed there, because otherwise nothing would have gotten done because my mom is 57 years old and it's not like she could have moved it all. If I flunked because of that, because half the semester I was more focused on the furniture, on the ones we had to eliminate and then by mid April Mrs. Maritza's husband was saying that we needed to needed to move our things, that we had been there long enough (not even a month had gone by, but nevermind, we did it). I don't know if I mentioned this, but by mid April we started looking for a storage to put our things. The thing is, over here, storage units aren't as popular as in the States. It's certainly not even close to how you see on the tv. Here, the people that rent space, it's either their garage, or one room in their house. My mom didn't want to rent either, afraid that our meager things would get stolen and we'd have no way to replace them. At the end, thank god, the place we were staying at (the small two bedroom apartment, all furnished, sent from HEAVEN!) had one room their weren't using and we could. It was perfect. So we had to move everything, again. We had to get all our things four stories up, again. It was yet another weekend from hell, but we did it.
See? Time just kept on flying by through me, and the more I told myself, I'll study this afternoon, tomorrow, the less time I ended up having.
And if that wasn't enough, my aunt, my mother's sister in law, who we PAY to stay with my gran (she's 85 yo, there's no way we're leaving her alone, ever!) got sick and had to go to the hospital for check ups and she couldn't come to watch my gran, so my mom and I would trade places, like, I'd stay home at morning, have lunch with her, and then my mom would arrive from work and I could go to school. That happened all the way to finals.
It's not like I didn't study because I was too lazy or anything. I truly had so much going on in my mind, you know?
And I'm telling you all this, because in a way, I'm telling myself. It's embarrassing as hell, yes, but the reason I got eliminated was because of that. Shit happened, and I had to take care of. I couldn't not do it, without letting my parents down. I just wanted you all (and me) to know that. *nods*
No, really.
The thing is, what happened, happened. I mean, I can't change that we were forced to leave the house in a matter of three hours. I can't change that all our things were piled up on the street. I can't change that we ended up putting everything in Mrs. Maritza's shop. I can't change that we didn't even know where our clothes were. That we spent days and days sorting out everything. That my underwear was packed in my pillow case or most of my clothes wrapped up in my sheets and comforter, left on the ground for an hour. It happened. And my parents needed me, needed my time, when I should have, in a way, spent it studying. I spent days, like, 20 in total probably, going to Mrs. Maritza house to sort everything out and put in boxes and moving our furniture and totally killing my back. I moved the washer myself. I moved this huge ass dresser myself. I moved everything I had move, and climbed on top of the furniture to get to more boxes and to eliminate as much as we could with as little space as we had. I had to.
I'm telling myself this, because this wasn't something I could have prevented. I missed classes because I was needed there, because otherwise nothing would have gotten done because my mom is 57 years old and it's not like she could have moved it all. If I flunked because of that, because half the semester I was more focused on the furniture, on the ones we had to eliminate and then by mid April Mrs. Maritza's husband was saying that we needed to needed to move our things, that we had been there long enough (not even a month had gone by, but nevermind, we did it). I don't know if I mentioned this, but by mid April we started looking for a storage to put our things. The thing is, over here, storage units aren't as popular as in the States. It's certainly not even close to how you see on the tv. Here, the people that rent space, it's either their garage, or one room in their house. My mom didn't want to rent either, afraid that our meager things would get stolen and we'd have no way to replace them. At the end, thank god, the place we were staying at (the small two bedroom apartment, all furnished, sent from HEAVEN!) had one room their weren't using and we could. It was perfect. So we had to move everything, again. We had to get all our things four stories up, again. It was yet another weekend from hell, but we did it.
See? Time just kept on flying by through me, and the more I told myself, I'll study this afternoon, tomorrow, the less time I ended up having.
And if that wasn't enough, my aunt, my mother's sister in law, who we PAY to stay with my gran (she's 85 yo, there's no way we're leaving her alone, ever!) got sick and had to go to the hospital for check ups and she couldn't come to watch my gran, so my mom and I would trade places, like, I'd stay home at morning, have lunch with her, and then my mom would arrive from work and I could go to school. That happened all the way to finals.
It's not like I didn't study because I was too lazy or anything. I truly had so much going on in my mind, you know?
And I'm telling you all this, because in a way, I'm telling myself. It's embarrassing as hell, yes, but the reason I got eliminated was because of that. Shit happened, and I had to take care of. I couldn't not do it, without letting my parents down. I just wanted you all (and me) to know that. *nods*