I’m sitting at the kitchen table staring out the sliding glass doors. It is misting rain… again. A dreary but welcome sight in the wake of the events of this past week. Sunday, tornadoes nearly wiped Joplin, MO off the map. So much death and destruction. I am exhausted today. Most of my energy yesterday was spent being hyper-vigilant in anticipation of the severe weather headed for the St. Louis Metropolitan area. I spent 4 hours in the basement last night waiting out the hail and tornado sirens. The storms were the worst between 4 & 6pm but I stayed in the basement watching the news and weather channel until it was well past us and nearly 8pm. I still didn’t get to bed until about 10:30. I was awake yesterday for 19.5 hours straight and I feel it today.
I walked through my house this morning and noticed that it wasn’t too messy. That is the good thing about bad weather. My anxiety causes me to not be able to sit still. I cleaned like a fiend! I feel a little better about my house today. My morning routine usually consists of the following actions:
Wake up somewhere between 6:30 and 7 am. I really should be up by 6 but I struggle on a daily basis, most days, it’s 6:30. Stumble to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee, which is stupid. My coffee pot has a timer. I could set it the night before and it would be ready for me. I never remember to set it until the next morning when it doesn’t matter then. Fold a load of laundry, throw the wet clothes in the dryer and start a new load of wash while my coffee is brewing. Step out onto the back patio and have a cigarette with my coffee. Kiss Mike as he walks out the door to work. Roll Tanner out of bed for school. Throw lunch money at him as he walks out the door. Talk to the MIL on the phone. Feed the dog. Think about getting in the shower. Usually fuck off for an hour or so then wonder where the time went because it’s damn near noon and I don’t have shit accomplished for the morning. Feel disgusted because my house isn’t as clean as it should be since I don’t have full time employment. Get pissed. Apply for more jobs that I’m sure they will tell me I’m too over-qualified to hire. I can’t even get a job waiting tables because I’m too qualified. I have thought about lying on my application, leaving off the college & work history and just putting my high school K-Mart and waitress positions on my resume… but lying on a job application is a federal offense isn’t it? I’m too much of a goody-two-shoes for that, but I’m getting desperate.
I am trying to remember what if feels like to have hopes and dreams. I am trying to remember what some of my hopes and dreams were. I realized I don’t have hope and dreams anymore. I have survival instincts. My thoughts aren’t about what I want but about what I need. I need the stability of a job even if it doesn’t pay a lot of money. I need to feel like what I do every day is a good contribution to our household, our home life and our community. I need to be able to contribute monetarily to the family so that we can keep our house, cars and lifestyle we are accustomed to living.
It’s raining outside. It feels like it’s been raining inside of me for months. Torrential downpours washing everything down the gutters of my soul. Stripping my landscape back to nothing but wet, squishy mud. My dad had a saying when we were kids and did something really wrong. “If you don’t straighten up, I’m gonna stomp a mud hole in your ass.” I feel like someone has stomped a mud hole in my ass.