Last day on the job

Today marks my last day working at the library. I've been offered a job working in the kitchen at a local diner. Nothing fancy, but it actually pays more than $6 an hour, so I'm taking it.

So I guess until I figure out another way to get computer access, this is goodbye...to all of those people NOT reading my blog.

He's gone

I don't see him in my dreams anymore.  In his place is Catty.  Her lips aren't sewn shut, but she doesn't know how to talk to me anymore.  She doesn't even recognize me.

She looks helpless, confused.  In five years I have not focused so much on my family.  Do they need me now?

I can't go home now.  It's been too long and they can never forgive me.  Small towns have a big memory, as the saying goes.  Or maybe there is no saying.  It's true either way.

I'm getting bored at the library.  I might be looking for a new job soon.  If so, it might be a while until I post again.

Joseph

PS.  Number of total blog views in almost 2 months?  Guess:  0

Another night. Another dream about dad.

I've been dreaming about him for over a week now.  I haven't even spoken to him in almost five years.  Why in the world is this coming up now?

In the dream he doesn't say anything.  Not because he doesn't want to.  His lips are sewn shut...but his eyes they plead with me.  He's begging me.

Why is he begging me?  I have no idea.  I wake up when the tears start streaming from his eyes.

Should I call him?  I've still got the house number, and when they left, they left me a calling card.  Which still has all the minutes on it.

Maybe I should give it a try.

Maybe not.

And the irony award goes to...

You know you are truly helpless, when you are unable to even help those that most need it.  A man asked me for change on my way home last night.  I had to tell him no because I couldn't afford to eat if I gave it to him.

You always wonder how people get in that shape.  Then you wake up and realize you aren't that far away.  Just a few missteps.

I dreamed about dad last night.  Just him.  It was strange.  I'm not used to having my dreams focus on anyone besides her.

In the end, what does it really matter?

100 years from now, a blink in the cosmic eye, absolutely nobody on earth will care about whats going on in the world right now.  Nobody will worry about how awful the president was, and nobody will wonder if the Republicans or Democrats are right.  And for sure, nobody will remember the name Joseph Aaron...unless its on a statue in Friars Point that says "Our Daughter, Killed by Joseph Aaron".

The nightmares are changing.  For the first time.  Is the blogging helping?

Amazing...

It's almost like the universe conspires to keep me anonymous.  For almost a month I have been blogging.  You would think that by shear coincidence, ONE PERSON would have stumbled onto this blog.

You would be wrong.  There have been ZERO outside hits.

Not that I care, I just find it unusual.

My little Catty-bug

When we were kids, Catherine was my best friend.  She had an imagination like nothing I have ever seen.  She could create entire worlds in her head.  Fantastic worlds for us to explore.  She was always the damsel in distress, and I her Prince Charming come to rescue her.

I didn't get to enjoy those times enough.  By the time she was old enough to really get creative, I had decided my kid sister was boring, and was more interested in hanging out with my friends, stealing cigarettes from the store.  Mostly trying to figure out how to get in trouble.

I do remember when we stopped being close.  It was her big day.  Opening night for the school play, and she had scored the leading role.  For months it was all she talked about.

And I missed it.  I was too busy with my friends to be there for my sister.  So how could I have ever asked her to be there for me...