edensgarden's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There's a mouse in the house...

I am almost to my first Friday. I am tired, oh so tired. It�s not my feet, but my back that hurts. I have so many things going through my mind...will they always stare back at me like a bunch of brain dead monkeys?

*****

Hello, is anyone there? The lights are on and some of the people are definitely not home!

*****

I�ve been a bit overwhelmed. I�ve been 3-mile Island for the last few nights. I�ve not taken out my frustrations on anyone. I�ve just sat alone and cried. I�m so new, so inexperienced, so lacking in creativity. Do they like me? Do I care if they like me?

*****

There are 40 kids in 2nd hour and 15 in 3rd. My one class of freshmen is timid and shy. I�m trying to figure out if 1st hour is normally comatose or just really quiet, and there is 5th hour. All of the student counsel kids are in 5th hour. I really don�t mind, yes they are preppy, yes they are happy to be alive, I think it�s good. If they are motivated enough to be in student government, they are motivated to do their work.

*****

I intimidate Claudia in 2nd hour. Boo!

*****

There is a mouse living in the front-office. I was sitting waiting to talk to the counselor about my over crowded 2nd hour. The mouse ran out of the door to the storage room. It took all I had to not scream. I�ve never actually seen a mouse that is not from a pet store, or dead in a trap. Ah! I have no problem smashing a cucaracha with my bare hands, but I freak out at a small rodent. Go figure.

*****

Today would have been my Grandma Pearl�s 80th birthday. Of course were she still alive she would have only turned �plenty-nine�. This year I turned �plenty-nine�. I like being the same age as Grandma. I know she would have gotten a chuckle out of it.

I think days like this, are hard for my dad, even though he would never say it. After he mentioned Grandma�s birthday I began to think about my dad. Both of his parents are gone. Because of this, he is, in a way, alone.

I remember the day he told us that Grandma was sick and was going to die. In was in March of 1988, I was 14. That was the first time I saw my dad cry. I ran out of the room.

I know it�s hard when a loved one dies. As time passes the pain of their absence wanes, but how much? I know my dad understands, and has a firm knowledge that he will see his mother again. But, I wonder what his thoughts about her are, or if there are times when he still mourns her absence.

I know that I do. Sometimes when I find myself in a situation, I wonder what Grandma would have thought, or what she would have said or done. I wonder too if she would have been pleased with the way I grew up.

Sometimes when I go over the house, I half expect to see her standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes, turning, her face lighting up and calling out my name.

I miss these moments sometimes.

*****

I�ve been thinking about myself. Not in a narcissistic way, but rather I�ve been thinking what road of life am I on?

I am a big fan of Robert Frost, and I love The Road Not Taken.

Am I on the road less traveled by? Did I take the path that was grassy and wanted wear?

Sometimes we don�t know what the results of our choices will be. It�s a big trial of faith. I feel like I am in the trial of the century right now it extends to every corner of my globe.

*****

Good night all.

9:06 p.m. - August 08, 2002

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

contact

random entry

other diaries: