June 24: Cleaning out my dressers is weird. I simultaneously feel like I’m getting rid of too much stuff and not enough at the same time. It’s like watching myself throwing away pieces of who I used to be and who I thought I would be by the time I reached this age.
June 25: I want to talk about what’s bothering me and get it out. But he seems to do everything he can to stop me. He interrupts, tries to distract me, and tells me he is the wrong person to go to for this kind of thing. It’s like I ate something poisonous and I’m trying to throw it up, but he puts his hand over my mouth and forces me to swallow it again.
June 26: I’ve been on a Gordan Ramsay binge lately. Just watching him yell at deluded owners and sticking up for the line staff is so satisfying. This is the closest I will get to yelling back at all the baby boomers who have deemed my generation as selfish snowflakes. They are the ones who tell me to go to college and get in debt for it so I can avoid a life of working in fast-food joints. Then they tell me to remove my degree from my resume so I can have an easier time finding work where they can pay me less than what I deserve while my student loan payments start six months after graduation and come weighted down with huge interest rates. Then they berate people who do end up working in fast food places just to make ends meet.
June 27: I passed a family that was out walking their dog that looked just liked George. He was another tiny, white, fluffy guy. They sniffed each other and when we parted ways without incident, I praised George. The woman in the group stopped dead in her tracks and her mouth fell open. The other dogs was also named George.
June 28: The sun was setting and we pulled over to the side of the freeway. The wind was helped along by the semi-trucks and picked up flecks of sand from the shoulder of the road, but it was still warm. We scattered Jr’s ashes where a sunflower bush and a thorny bush converged.
June 29: The program for Grandma’s memorial service listed that Matt and Angi would be performing a duet of Amazing Grace. Angi took centerstage and pulled the microphone out of its holder. The stage was still decorated with a fake plane and Mayan temple from the church’s VBS program. Matt went to the piano. Nick leaned towards me. “I didn’t know Matt played the piano,” he whispered. But apparently he didn’t because he played exactly two notes and Angi belted out the song alone. And now I want to hire them as an entertainment duo for every event I have from now on.
June 30: We had one dog per person as we walked around the marina in Dana Point. At least a dozen people pointed us out, calling us the “dog parade”. I was busy reading the names painted on the backboards of all the boats, names like Fish Lips and Wild in Sac.
much love,
hedgie
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