I’m not angry anymore

So, three months ago today, my father passed away.  For the first month or so I was quite stolid, I didn’t show much emotion at all, even though every night I’d cry myself to sleep.  As time continued, my grip has loosened, and today was a clear example of that.  I woke up, or I guess you could say I just got up- I didn’t sleep much last night, because I stayed up forever finishing my lab report, and didn’t think too much about the date.  For the past, I don’t know, five or six days, I’ve been writing September 26th, 2009 on everything, but yeah, I woke up, and got dressed, and made my way to hell.  When I got inside, I realized what day it was, and that made me dread hell even more than usual.  I sat through each and every one of my classes, entirely silent.  I didn’t do shit for work.  I didn’t listen to the professors. I was not productive at all.  I didn’t mutter a single word to many of my friends either- in fact, during lunch I left, and went to the music store and ordered a Wu-Tang Clan Album. So much for saving my money. Anyway, the school day ended, and I went to work within five minutes of leaving class. I got to work and knew that I was going to be okay, because I like being happy at work. But my boss told me I could work in the basement unboxing Christmas merchandise, pricing it, and doing the occasional filing of invoices. About thirty minutes into my shift, my boss called me upstairs, and had me doing a bunch- the store was packed, which was good, business is always a positive thing. So anyway, during perhaps a time frame of 35minutes, we made the single biggest sale in the history of our store’s sale records.  A woman bought 45+ bars of soap, and 45+ linens, along with other homegoods, and ended up spending $1,115.  She paid….in CASH. It was crazy. anyway, I left work and went back to the music shop, which was just ridiculous. Sometimes when I go in, I feel pretty snazzy, but other times, I’m just like, fuck this shit, I hate everyone who is in this store. Today was the fuck this shit kinda day. But anyway, I bought some good used cds- Elvis Costello’s When I Was Cruel album and Echo and the Bunnymen’s Songs to Learn & Sing album.  I also got a grab bag…I really need to stop going into that store…because I just have no boundaries when it comes to purchasing music.

So I started walking home and half way I broke down.  Tears were gushing out of my eyes, and I couldn’t breathe and I was incredibly distressed.  I get home, no one’s there, and I just break down again.  I’m sitting on my bed, listening to fucking Concrete Blonde’s Joey (Which ironically is my father’s name…) and the tears are not slowin’ down.   I didn’t know how to handle the situation. I was in hysterics, my voice was shaky, and I didn’t…I wasn’t making sense. So I suppose I wasted about 3 hours before my mom got home, and we ate this chicken, which was disgusting if you don’t mind me saying. I hate the dark meat, and I got stuck with it of course. But I don’t know, I got into a verbal altercation with her as always, and I just kinda have been secluding myself since then.


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