Figuratively, and physically.

The past two days hath wrought highly unusual weather for this area. Long, slow, drenching rains. The past two months hath brought nothing but bad, or worse, news. I find myself asking the big, depressing questions. “What’s the point? Should I just give up? Where’s the bar?”

I am buried in work and activity that keeps me from the kids far more than I want to be. They get on the bus at ten til seven every morning. There are a few nights a week that I don’t see them until somewhere between 8-10 pm. Every time I stop for more than 10 seconds, I panic… wondering how much they might hate me for not spending more time with them.

K has never quite been the same since Grandpa passed away. He took a piece of her with him. V isn’t that far off the mark, either. He’s just a boy and exhibits it differently. Last night his Grandma said she needed to sell the tractor Grandpa bought before passing, and V went into a rage. I made the choice to attend grief counseling, but we have yet to go to an appointment.

The only thing I know to do is try to make the time I spend with them as quality as possible. I know that things need to change, but as for right now, I have very few options, if any at all. The scary thing is, even if I wanted to apply for another job, or something of that nature, I honestly have no time to go apply for jobs. Do people do interviews at 11 PM? That is where my free time window begins.

So, this is my life. This is our life. If you want to call it that, that’s it. I may have left out a few details about being behind on rent, or my inability to allow myself to be in a healthy relationship, or the kids squirting an entire bottle of dishsoap around the house last Saturday morning. But you got all that between the lines, right?