Oh to Be Free
I can’t remember the last time I woke up eager to face the day. Without running through thousands of scenarios of how the day could / will go wrong. That’s not even to say that the situations I’m in or the things I’m doing really call for such thoughts, it’s just everyday stuff. It’s getting there, it’s getting out of the house, it’s the deviating from solidarity … allowing myself to ignore the arguments in my head (schizophrenia anyone?) and simply have a good time. The severity of it all is in no way consistent or even related to much of anything besides just being entirely random. Certain people and/or situations seem to be a slight remedy, at least to some extent. It seems the only times (at least lately) that it’s not a concern of mine is when I find myself unable to think (which turns out to be rare). Even in slumber my brain runs a thousand miles a minute, and thankfully to my grand subconscious provides lovely dreams (*cough* sarcasm).
Creating a pseudo Grading Program from scratch isn’t quite as thrilling as one my think (wait, no one thinks that it would be … hmm).
On another wonderful note … my step-mother (Carolyn) has called twice in the past week about some things that my dad has been up to lately. He dropped by here like a week or so ago on his way back from visiting my sister in North Carolina. Instead of going to his house from here, he called Carolyn and said he had to make an unexpected stop before coming home (aka. he was going to “visit” one of his girlfriends). She knew what that meant and immediately replied with “I fucking hate you.” He ended up spending the night at that woman’s house, telling Carolyn that he only stayed because she said she hated him (because we’re all that naive, right?). She called me the next day and relayed that to me with some extra little tidbits (annoyances) that I’d missed while I was gone. He’s apparently devoid of feelings for anyone but himself (and whomever he’s fucking at the time), and makes it oh so obvious (he talks to his girlfriends within earshot of Carolyn). Better yet, when looking for a box to ship some stuff in, she found a small collection of his porn, which, at any rate, is disturbing, but this also included (at least what appeared to be) child porn. How ridiculous is that? I mean, he’s a middle school teacher for heaven’s sake!
Carolyn tried to warn one of their semi-mutual friends that had offered to set my dad up with someone she knew about his past (and present for that matter). I’ve never understood why, but anyone that my dad knows personally (by know I mean they know his facade, not him) believes absolutely anything and everything he tells him. He reaffirmed what these people thought they knew, and that was that. She listens to him bad-talk her on the phone to most anyone he talks to, especially his not-so-new girlfriends.
All Carolyn was trying to do was to warn them, like my mom tried with Carolyn. For those that don’t know or care, he does put on a good front. That is, until he feels he no longer needs to (which, as a matter of fact, happened with him and Carolyn within hours of their marriage ceremony). Carolyn called me again about an hour ago, in tears. She was so upset that I couldn’t comprehend the first 5 minutes of the conversation. She couldn’t handle how much backlash from numerous sources arose from simply trying to help. I told her if she wanted me to, I’d be more than happy to provide said people with another realistic perspective on the situation (which was a main reason for her call). It’s sad how willing I am to dish the dirt on my dad, although, in the long-run I suppose it might be for the best. I’ve now witness (what will soon be) two divorces at his hand, not to mention the turmoil that always seems to accompany it.
Morals should never be situational, although it seems that it’s hard to avoid these days.
