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12.19.13

I didn't know when I last posted that my dad had only twelve days left to live. He died October 5th, during my birthday party. I didn't find out until the next day, two days before my actual birthday, already a bad day because Johnny and I had a bad time the night before. I called my mom and had her tell my sister so that my uncle wouldn't have to.

They cremated him a few days later. I didn't come home for that. My uncle and my brother sent me money so we could fly up just before Halloween so we could come to the memorial. We made jokes about him and dumped some of his ashes into the creek at Ed's house. I felt bad for my aunt and uncles.

I cry a lot lately when no one's around. It's not all for my dad; this year has been a bad one for a lot of reasons and I think it finally got me. Bike trouble, disheartening job hunts, no car, no cash, a lot of people dying. I feel like I'm so far down I can't get up anymore. I've lost hope.

 I'm trying to feel my way out. I looked into truck driving school but I don't have the cash for the physical or the licensing fees. I may take off to hitch hike around alone for awhile. I worry that if I leave for too long, though, I won't have a home to come back to. For now I spend a lot of time lying in bed, reading, watching tv, or sitting at the coffee shop. Anything to keep busy.

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