Blame It On the Rain
When I was driving home in yet another wind and rain storm, I was thinking about all the stressful and somewhat shitty things that came up today. One friend is totally pissed off at another, and the other doesn't understand why, even though it totally makes sense to me. I'm caught in the middle without the second one even knowing what a big deal it all is. I try to be so careful around these people so that I don't piss them off because I know that they talk about me behind my back and they don't like some of the thing I say. When really they are allowed to say whatever the fuck they want. It reminds me a lot of high school.
I received another email today with a person's name in the subject line and a frowning face. Keith Jackson, former cook at Cultus Lake United Church Camp, died on Christmas day. He had some quorks that were kind of annoying but he was one of the best cooks we ever had at camp. He always kept a jar of werthers carmel candies on the counter in the kitchen for staff, counsellors, and even campers at times when they would stop by to say hello to the cooks. I knew that he had been very ill and he was a senior. It just sucks to hear of another person who died.
The memorial for Robyn's dad, Stan Green, is happening a week from today. I want to go to the service. Even though it will be hard, I think it's important for me to go. Partly because I totally remember him being around Gladwin on occasion, he was one of the Dads that wasn't there nearly as much as the mom. Also because I want to show my support for Robyn, Sean (her brother) and Jan (her mom). Jan was always so friendly towards me when I went to Gladwin. And I also think that this is one of the ways that I can support Robyn, by going to the service. Especially since there isn't much I can do to help her, I can't take away the hurting pain that she is probably feeling constantly through out her heart, stomach and body, and I can't bring back her dad.
A friend invited me over for a margaritta after work today and I said that I would stop by. When I got there her husband treated me like shit, as if he really didn't want me around because he doesn't like me. It's so hard to spend time with them because I lead a completely different life. She went on and on about how clean her house was today, and ya it was tidier and vaccumed better than it usually is but the way her house is kept reminds me of the way Dad's was when I was growing up...never really organized or clean. There's a difference between a little clutter like everyone has on a counter or table, etc. And then there's the actual house where things seem dirty and you don't want to walk bare foot on the carpet and wonder where you can walk with out stepping on a toy or garbage. And her husband reffered to me as being a free-loader, that I was there to drink their pop and eat their food! Fuck that! I was there because I was invited. And I was only eating some chips because she wouldn't give up on me taking some until I did. The stupid fucking thing about this is that they know about my issues with food. So wouldn't they think a little before saying anything like that? I guess I can't really expect that of anyone.
The stress of yesturday and last night was totally affecting my body all day today. That sucked. My stomach hurt quite a bit.
At this time, I'm not even sure when my next day off is. I think it might not be until Thursday or Saturday next week. I can do it. With God's help I can get through anything, I have this far.
I received another email today with a person's name in the subject line and a frowning face. Keith Jackson, former cook at Cultus Lake United Church Camp, died on Christmas day. He had some quorks that were kind of annoying but he was one of the best cooks we ever had at camp. He always kept a jar of werthers carmel candies on the counter in the kitchen for staff, counsellors, and even campers at times when they would stop by to say hello to the cooks. I knew that he had been very ill and he was a senior. It just sucks to hear of another person who died.
The memorial for Robyn's dad, Stan Green, is happening a week from today. I want to go to the service. Even though it will be hard, I think it's important for me to go. Partly because I totally remember him being around Gladwin on occasion, he was one of the Dads that wasn't there nearly as much as the mom. Also because I want to show my support for Robyn, Sean (her brother) and Jan (her mom). Jan was always so friendly towards me when I went to Gladwin. And I also think that this is one of the ways that I can support Robyn, by going to the service. Especially since there isn't much I can do to help her, I can't take away the hurting pain that she is probably feeling constantly through out her heart, stomach and body, and I can't bring back her dad.
A friend invited me over for a margaritta after work today and I said that I would stop by. When I got there her husband treated me like shit, as if he really didn't want me around because he doesn't like me. It's so hard to spend time with them because I lead a completely different life. She went on and on about how clean her house was today, and ya it was tidier and vaccumed better than it usually is but the way her house is kept reminds me of the way Dad's was when I was growing up...never really organized or clean. There's a difference between a little clutter like everyone has on a counter or table, etc. And then there's the actual house where things seem dirty and you don't want to walk bare foot on the carpet and wonder where you can walk with out stepping on a toy or garbage. And her husband reffered to me as being a free-loader, that I was there to drink their pop and eat their food! Fuck that! I was there because I was invited. And I was only eating some chips because she wouldn't give up on me taking some until I did. The stupid fucking thing about this is that they know about my issues with food. So wouldn't they think a little before saying anything like that? I guess I can't really expect that of anyone.
The stress of yesturday and last night was totally affecting my body all day today. That sucked. My stomach hurt quite a bit.
At this time, I'm not even sure when my next day off is. I think it might not be until Thursday or Saturday next week. I can do it. With God's help I can get through anything, I have this far.
Labels: deaths, stupid fucking people
posted by Womyn in Troubled Waters at 12:22 AM
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