The only reason for the title is to be descriptive of what I’m going to talk about here. They actually have nothing to do with each other. I could have just separated them with a comma or something. Or maybe a semi-colon, I don’t know about good grammar and punctuation though. Maybe bullet points?
I’m in a new place as of Saturday. Just a one bedroom apartment. Close to what’s most important to me. Isabel really wanted to go to Wylie High School and unfortunately, where she lives now, she is zoned to have to attend Wylie Easy High School. The apartment I chose is a good price and it’s in the WHS district, so that’s a win-win. Well, I’m also closer, about 15 miles closer, to Isabel. So that’s a win-win-win. I don’t have much right now. Just what I had in my one room stint at Matt’s house. It’s amazing what little I have. A futon and my computer and some clothes and other nick-nacks. Nothing really noteworthy, and by noteworthy I mean nothing that would sell for much on ebay or craigslist. But it’s home now and I’ve never lived by myself, so I’m trying to figure it all out.
Things I need to get:
- Food
- Cleaning supplies
- Towels
- Plates
- Silverware
- Pots and pans (for all the healthy cooking I’m going to be doing.)
- Batteries
- Vacuum cleaner
- Broom
- Mop
Starting from scratch is hard work.
And you know who knew about hard work, that’s right, I just did a segue to talk about my mom.
Mom worked hard. I don’t think I really ever appreciated how hard she worked. She was a single mom for most of my teenage years. I remember her medical transcription job that she hated, but she did it because it needed to be done. My brothers and I were pretty self sufficient so we didn’t need much supervision. We generally made it to school and back okay. Generally. I do remember trying to make sure there was a jug of iced tea in the fridge. I know that always made her smile a little bit when she got home from work. She got really mad when there wasn’t any. But it does kind of suck when someone takes the last bit of milk, but leaves just enough to make it seem like there’s enough to be used by someone else, so you don’t have to throw it out. I’m sure that’s probably what it was like with the tea. But she rarely got mad. I can really only remember once or twice that she got really mad. But that also might be that she got mad all the time and beat me so bad that I don’t remember any other time. I’m sure that’s not it though.
I remember more good things about mom. I loved playing games with her and talking to her. She’s obviously where I get my sense of humor. If she were alive today, she would probably be on Facebook and show up on Failbook frequently, or some site where people post things that their parents say.
She did an amazing job being in her position and dealing with what she had to deal with.
I do miss her.
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