w00t w00t booyah

Today is fired. Not only did I have one the worst days on record (and they've been a series lately), I come home and get the phone call from Mom.

I had three aunts living yesterday - the one who was always proud of me, no matter what I did or if I fell on my face...has died. She was the widow of my favorite uncle who passed when I was 19, nearly thirty years ago and has missed him daily ever since.

I can't quibble. She'd survived cervical cancer with some of the worst side effects from the radiation you can imagine - both digestive and kidney damage, to the point she'd been on dialysis for years. She ended her days in a convalescent home in Stockton, after a bowel obstruction surgery deteriorated into MRSA...and they couldn't quite get on top of it.

I also can't travel for her funeral - the airfares are just too much. Nobody can. Mom wants to go - but she needs to be escorted, and nobody can do it. (I might also add that trying to make this herculean effort at this point? Please. She's beyond enjoying it, and it's too late. It's ridiculous.)

I don't like it. I don't have to like it. Matter of fact, I'm pretty steamed about it.

And I get to go in to work tomorrow and get reamed. Don't ask. I can't talk about it anyway.

Today is fired. Not only did I have one the worst days on record (and they've been a series lately), I come home and get the phone call from Mom.

I had three aunts living yesterday - the one who was always proud of me, no matter what I did or if I fell on my face...has died. She was the widow of my favorite uncle who passed when I was 19, nearly thirty years ago and has missed him daily ever since.

I can't quibble. She'd survived cervical cancer with some of the worst side effects from the radiation you can imagine - both digestive and kidney damage, to the point she'd been on dialysis for years. She ended her days in a convalescent home in Stockton, after a bowel obstruction surgery deteriorated into MRSA...and they couldn't quite get on top of it.

I also can't travel for her funeral - the airfares are just too much. Nobody can. Mom wants to go - but she needs to be escorted, and nobody can do it. (I might also add that trying to make this herculean effort at this point? Please. She's beyond enjoying it, and it's too late. It's ridiculous.)

I don't like it. I don't have to like it. Matter of fact, I'm pretty steamed about it.

And I get to go in to work tomorrow and get reamed. Don't ask. I can't talk about it anyway.