If you've keeping up with my situation, you know that I've been going through it. This particular entry was created last week (4/24/08), and this is the first time I've been able to post it. Enjoy...
Just when you think things can’t get any worse, they do. It’s bad enough not to have any place to call your own, but when people don’t even try to understand what you’re going through, it really makes you wonder.
I’m currently camping out on my homegirl’s couch because my apartment won’t be ready until the 1st. She has been kind enough to let me stay since my money is funny and my wonderful cousin doesn’t have room for me. As you can imagine, I’m not handling this very well. I’m used to being the one helping people, so it’s a different feeling to be on the other end of this situation. I’m doing the very best I can to stay positive, but it’s hard. My tears are always just below the surface, and my patience is very thin.
Tonight, though, was supposed to be special. It was the first new episode of Grey’s Anatomy since the writer’s strike, and I was so looking forward to it. In fact, I rearranged my whole day for it. I went to work early and rushed through my show so I’d be able to see it from beginning to end. I know it’s corny, but with joy being such a hard commodity to come by right now, I try to catch it anywhere I can.
Can you imagine my chagrin when I got home only to find out that no one was here? When I called my homegirl, her response was, “Well, you should’ve called before you came over.” Maybe I’m just stupid, but I thought it was understood that if you change your routine – which, for her, is staying at home – you’d let your guests know. My bad. What was I thinking?
I had been on the phone with my mom when I was on my way home, so I called her back to let her know what had happened. My poor mother was upset because she, too, knew how much this night meant to me. She was racking her brain trying to figure out where I could go and watch the show, but since Grey’s isn’t basketball, there weren’t any bars or restaurants showing it on their big screen TVs.
You know, this is the reason people need their own space. If I had a home, this never would’ve happened. Of course, it also lets me see just where I land on the list of anyone’s priorities. My wants and needs are irrelevant to everyone else, and the people you hope you can count on – like your family – can’t be trusted because so many of them probably want to see you in your worst state.
Just give me strength, Lord…
Just when you think things can’t get any worse, they do. It’s bad enough not to have any place to call your own, but when people don’t even try to understand what you’re going through, it really makes you wonder.
I’m currently camping out on my homegirl’s couch because my apartment won’t be ready until the 1st. She has been kind enough to let me stay since my money is funny and my wonderful cousin doesn’t have room for me. As you can imagine, I’m not handling this very well. I’m used to being the one helping people, so it’s a different feeling to be on the other end of this situation. I’m doing the very best I can to stay positive, but it’s hard. My tears are always just below the surface, and my patience is very thin.
Tonight, though, was supposed to be special. It was the first new episode of Grey’s Anatomy since the writer’s strike, and I was so looking forward to it. In fact, I rearranged my whole day for it. I went to work early and rushed through my show so I’d be able to see it from beginning to end. I know it’s corny, but with joy being such a hard commodity to come by right now, I try to catch it anywhere I can.
Can you imagine my chagrin when I got home only to find out that no one was here? When I called my homegirl, her response was, “Well, you should’ve called before you came over.” Maybe I’m just stupid, but I thought it was understood that if you change your routine – which, for her, is staying at home – you’d let your guests know. My bad. What was I thinking?
I had been on the phone with my mom when I was on my way home, so I called her back to let her know what had happened. My poor mother was upset because she, too, knew how much this night meant to me. She was racking her brain trying to figure out where I could go and watch the show, but since Grey’s isn’t basketball, there weren’t any bars or restaurants showing it on their big screen TVs.
You know, this is the reason people need their own space. If I had a home, this never would’ve happened. Of course, it also lets me see just where I land on the list of anyone’s priorities. My wants and needs are irrelevant to everyone else, and the people you hope you can count on – like your family – can’t be trusted because so many of them probably want to see you in your worst state.
Just give me strength, Lord…
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