I've recently been asked how I am able to still find humor in my current living situation...no real food in the house, not being able to leave for days on end and now, and most recently, being sick. Well, let me give you a glimpse into the mind of me (as scary as this might turn out to be). Please don't run screaming from your computer desks or couches (if you have a laptop), my mind isn't THAT scary that you need to react in quite that manor. Anyways, on with the 'glimpsing'...
Together, my mucus-filled sinus cavities and virus-infected body of mine sit here on our everlasting perch; the Computer Chair. At the moment I'm listening to a mix of music, including John Mayer, Ben Folds Five, the Grey's Anatomy Soundtrack, Underoath and Elton John. I'm pretty sure at this point, if I were still at camp, I would be begging someone for something to do with my time. My mom lies half-dead on the couch behind me; she even called-in sick to work today, she never does that. I'm not really taking care of her, so much as I'm making sure she's still alive randomly throughout the day. My butt hurts all the time now, I've gotten used to it after a week of doing nothing more than waking up and sitting on it all day. In the past three days, the only living (well, or dead) person I've contact with is my half-dead mother. I'm alright with it, though. It's just...well, ya know the saying 'going in over your head'...that's what this is; diving right back into the deep end of my old life. I have to take a bathroom break now; Mother Nature has this way of making me listen closely to her when I drink almost a full litre of Orange Juice in one day...
Okay, I'm back now. That was the first time I stood up in...well, since I woke up about four hours ago now (it's about 3pm now). Yikes, time flies when you do nothing all day. So, to update y'all on The Great Job Hunt, it's not going so hot these days. With my mother being my only way into town, (save walking, but I'll explain that detail in a minute) I haven't left the house in almost a week now. Now on to the walking aspect of things. I'm about 5 km from the nearest bus stop, and I would gladly walk it, but the path I would have to walk is on a highway and cross an exit and then also cross what I'm sure is one of the busiest intersections on this side of town, and I'm not even sure if it has one of those pedestrian things so the cars won't just drive over me like a speed bump. I don't keep a box of Kleenex beside me, because then I'd never get off my rump. I just ate a fleck of something off the desk…that was an unexpected surprise. It looked like chocolate, it had the texture of chocolate, I have a big ol' bar of dark chocolate on the desk next to me, but the darned thing tasted like paper. How disappointing. Oh well, "every silver lining has a black cloud," right Stephie? Ahh, I miss those guys like nothing else. Even Cort (that's right, I went there...). She's the one who always looked either busy or angry at me, but every once in a while would come out with a bunch of really witty, hilariously funny jokes or statements at random meals or whenever I saw her throughout the day. That's what I miss about that place, the camaraderie and the interactions with everyone who worked all those long days together. You never got away from them, and they were constantly in your business. I'd never had anyone care about why I was doing things before Jenni interrogated me about why I wasn't eating. It wasn't a new thing for me; I hardly ate lunch in grade 12...or grade 11, for that matter. I regularily skip meals, and it's never occurred to me before that someone else might care as to whether or not I eat. Speaking of food, or the lack thereof, in my house at the moment...it's microwave popcorn, Cup o' Soup (chicken noodle with those icky, floaty bits), ice cream, Stoned Wheat Thins, cereal (which I eat dry, because milk and my cold don't get along too well), Reduced Fat-Reduced Taste Pringles, and some things from the back of the freezer that I haven't seen in almost a year...or longer, I can't be sure anymore. Well, I'm off to explore the back of the freezer now, wish me luck. If I don't return, Steph and Een can fight over my music collection, because they're in desperate need of some good music to grace their long days living in the bush. (And 'cause my music is better anyways...)
Yikes, I wasn't aware that it was quite that bad. No joke there, either. I’m pretty sure that Ken would’ve had an aneurysm if he’d been here for that. I was at least hoping for a microwave dinner or something. Can you tell my mom doesn't like cooking? Microwave popcorn, microwave dinners, Cup o' Soup, etc...either that or she really, really wants to get cancer from all the radiation. Who knows? Anyways, since we have two freezers in the house, I figured I'd update you guys on just how bad that expedition actually was. Freezer #1 (the one attached to the fridge) contains what looks like noodles in a Ziploc baggie, a few pieces of cake from the cousin's wedding in August '06, some kind of Italian Sausage that really never appealed to me in the first place, frozen waffles (but no syrup anywhere to accompany them on their journey towards my stomach…not that I like waffles anyways), some cigarettes (?!...apparently it keeps them 'fresh'...?? Don't ask me!) and a frozen dinner that I'm positive moved into this house with us last March. Freezer #2 (the upright deepfreeze - it's about the size of a mini-fridge) contains a loaf of bread and a bag of frozen peas. That's it, that's all. Nothing edible remains in this house; I've eaten most of it in the past week. Anything left either looks like a science project on penicillin or something that even a scientist wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole, let alone put it in the microwave, radiate it to a point of certain death and then eat it...
And as I've already said once or twice before, my mom's lying half-dead on the couch so she's not up to taking me out shopping. I asked already. She yelled. I said it wasn't for things, but for food so I don't wither away and die. She looked in the fridge and freezers and then went back to the couch to die a little more. She hasn't said a word to me since. I have to be honest here; the only thing I've eaten today in the ways of 'solid food' is some of my good ol' dark chocolate. I finished what was left of my 1.89 litres of Orange Juice a little while ago, while writing this. Yup, that's my intake of food so far today. I still have about 1/4 bag of microwaved-to-death popcorn, and more than half a thing of Reduced Fat, Reduced Taste Pringles keeping the computer and me company, though, if should get desperate later.
And people wonder why I talk to myself so much. I have no siblings to beat on, and when my mom goes to work in the morning (unless I get up at 7 and catch a ride into town with her...can we say ew?), she's the only person I see every day. She'll come home at around 6 if she doesn't already have plans or an appointment to keep, make herself dinner and then sit on the couch unmoving until she goes to bed. I'm left in the house like a caged animal every day, no exceptions. Because when mom gets home from work, the LAST thing on earth she wants to do is leave again to drive me into town. She's told me that, verbatim, before. So, here I sit. All day. I'm still wondering when that inevitable you've-stared-at-the-computer-screen-too-long-dummy headache will join my cold and me in our isolation. My mom doesn't even like having the blinds open, because the only time she's home it's dark and she doesn't want the neighbors seeing everything she's doing. It's not like she's doing anything illegal...she just likes her privacy.
Let's face it: I'm a prisoner in my own house. I think I may have opened the curtains yesterday, but the sun hurt my eyes too much, so I closed them. Oh well, I have Elton John and the Arrogant Worms to hold my hand while I travel this dark road of insanity. People wondered why moving home was the last thing I wanted to do, and why I thought moving to Calgary and starting afresh would be better for me than taking some 'time off' and 'saving money' while living at home for a little while. Well, after reading this glimpse into my own little world of my brain, y'all should have a pretty good idea as to why I am the way I am and why I think I shouldn't be here.
~Blackbird
ps- If there are any typos in this, I'm sorry, it's not my fault; I promise it isn't. This computer just hates me and doesn't want me to ever be happy again, so it'll freeze randomly ever few seconds and not catch everything I type, forcing me to wait for the computer to catch up to what I've typed and then delete everything that's gone wrong in those mere seconds. I'll write an entry and not edit it as I go so you see what I have to deal with....just because misery loves company, n'est-ce pas? Anyways, ciao!
*Edit - The reason that I can't leave the house isn't because it's too cold; it is most certainly not too cold to leave the house. I can't leave the house because, me being transportaionless and all, and my mom drives into town to work everyday. I don't live in town, much to my dismay. So I can't get into town easily. 'Tis all. Ciao!*
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