So you had a bad day....

I had a bad day. It wasn't terrible, but not good.

My job at Fred Hutch is getting worse and worse in terms of how much I hate it. Today was no exception.

Sostanza wasn't busy tonight, and as stupid as it is I feel there is some cosmic cycle that permanently ensures that Sostanza is not busy on weeknights that I work. This makes going a waste of time and effort. And it makes me bitter that other nights people are making much better money.

I went to the gym. It was unproductive and painful. I've been slacking the last month. Not because of a lack of motivation but a lack of time. I've been drinking a lot more this past month too, because of an increase in frustration, and this does not help me feel well at all. I both love and hate drinking, and the love side of me almost always wins.

I just read the father's day postsecrets. I never think of Father's Day now that my grandpa is gone, and the day usually just passes by. But this year my brother sent me a text that said "Happy Father's Suck Day" which I found sweet and funny that he would think of me, since we usually talk two or three times a year depending on when I visit. It got me down, though, because one of the postsecrets was "I'd rather you be dead. It would be easier to explain why you are gone." and I feel the exact same way. Which may shock people, especially those who know nothing about my father. But it made me realize I don't hate him so much because of the things he did, I hate him because I will forever be the put in the position of not talking about where or who my father is/was out of pure humiliation and the fact that is it such a freaking complicated and diluted situation. Oh well. I don't necessarily wish I could talk about it, but I wish I could tell certain people in my family that he haunts my dreams and pops into my head constantly, however we never ever speak of him except maybe in a way like my brother did via text.

This of course got me thinking of my mom, and how she is in such a terrible place in terms of unemployment and finances, but what makes it all worse is that she is dying alone, drinking bottles and bottles of wine by herself everyday and wasting away slowly, without the hope of finding someone or really the will to ever try again. I mean, ouch.

I'm gonna go ahead and stop typing this, because it is necessary for me to block out certain issues in hope of finding sanity for myself. I often catch myself thinking I wish I were as tough as I used to be instead of the sensitive person I seem to have become, and then I think maybe it's a freaking Godsend that I am as sensitive as I am and not a freaking rock.

I hope tomorow is better.