Iron masks
I'm mad at myself for wanting to give up.
I spoke with my grandfather tonight. Bless his heart, he sounds stricken. "How are you feeling?" "Excellent and getting better all the time. You know why, because God is so good to me!" We just lost my grandma, it seems. My God, I'm going to miss him. It is still hard not to see my grandma at the table on Sundays.
Tomorrow morning I'll be up at six to go running. Back by seven, shower and at church by eight. Back to collect my things by 9:15 and on the road to Ft. Worth by 9:30. After my internship, I'll probably go to Panera for coffee and walk in the gardens until traffic dies down. I'm bringing all my study materials with me so that I can keep going with Polish. It's a fucking hard language, man. What the hell am I thinking, that I can become fluent in a summer? I'm sort of embarrassed about it- I want to keep it from the rest of the family.
My uncle and cousin are coming into town on Friday. It will be hard because Victoria and I have always sort of competed with one another. She's worldly and European and socially deft in ways that make me feel like the exact sort of tree-climbing, mussy haired, bookish girl-in-women's-clothing that I... am. I have no patience for her brand of modernity and pride. And to be quite honest, I'm sort of intimidated by it. I feel like... less... when I'm around her. In any other situation, I like that I'm simple in my dealings with people and I don't try to weave webs of drama or conceit or pretense. Around my family, I wonder if perhaps I should. If I'm immature because I think that is all horseshit and a waste of my time. I have social graces, have I not? They're just... unique.
Grandpa can still get out and about a little, but he cannot eat anymore. I feel awful at the thought of him sitting at the table while the rest of us partake in rich foods, so I think I might become a soup-chef. As long as it's not chunky, he can eat it.
This weariness- I must find a way to combat it. I want badly to see my friends a lot this summer, but I'm afraid that my obligations will keep me around the house a lot. It's going to be a lot like before junior year of high school, when my mom had her surgery. I'll do what I can. I wish I could do more.
I spoke with my grandfather tonight. Bless his heart, he sounds stricken. "How are you feeling?" "Excellent and getting better all the time. You know why, because God is so good to me!" We just lost my grandma, it seems. My God, I'm going to miss him. It is still hard not to see my grandma at the table on Sundays.
Tomorrow morning I'll be up at six to go running. Back by seven, shower and at church by eight. Back to collect my things by 9:15 and on the road to Ft. Worth by 9:30. After my internship, I'll probably go to Panera for coffee and walk in the gardens until traffic dies down. I'm bringing all my study materials with me so that I can keep going with Polish. It's a fucking hard language, man. What the hell am I thinking, that I can become fluent in a summer? I'm sort of embarrassed about it- I want to keep it from the rest of the family.
My uncle and cousin are coming into town on Friday. It will be hard because Victoria and I have always sort of competed with one another. She's worldly and European and socially deft in ways that make me feel like the exact sort of tree-climbing, mussy haired, bookish girl-in-women's-clothing that I... am. I have no patience for her brand of modernity and pride. And to be quite honest, I'm sort of intimidated by it. I feel like... less... when I'm around her. In any other situation, I like that I'm simple in my dealings with people and I don't try to weave webs of drama or conceit or pretense. Around my family, I wonder if perhaps I should. If I'm immature because I think that is all horseshit and a waste of my time. I have social graces, have I not? They're just... unique.
Grandpa can still get out and about a little, but he cannot eat anymore. I feel awful at the thought of him sitting at the table while the rest of us partake in rich foods, so I think I might become a soup-chef. As long as it's not chunky, he can eat it.
This weariness- I must find a way to combat it. I want badly to see my friends a lot this summer, but I'm afraid that my obligations will keep me around the house a lot. It's going to be a lot like before junior year of high school, when my mom had her surgery. I'll do what I can. I wish I could do more.