Monotony

Every day started to blend into the next... I was going to all of my classes, but I had so much on my mind, I really don't remember much of them. I remember studying, I remember doing research, and I remember checking grades... I do not remember the semester though. I'd get up at 6, go to work at the middle school for tutoring from 7-8, have class from 8-2, call Daddy, eat something and do homework, work from 3-6 for after care, then have class again from 6-9. And on the days I did not have class, I went and saw Daddy between morning and afternoon work shifts. Visiting Daddy meant bringing him some interesting snacks since the nursing home food was mostly not edible. I'd bring my homework and Daddy would fall asleep. He told me he stayed up most nights from the moaning and screaming of the patients, he would just turn his TV volume louder. He said that when I came to visit that he felt safe enough to fall asleep, and when I'd have to leave he would apologize for not being good company, id tell him I got a lot of work done and that he needed his sleep. The rides to work from there would be awful, i'd hit traffic always and the area between the nursing home and the highway was pretty ghetto. I'd let out all my tears through singing along to the radio, and when I got to work I would shove my emotions down into my tummy so that I could help my kids at work without having my struggles take a role. Some days I was okay, and some days I bet I looked like a zombie. I survived though, somehow. I graduated that semester with honors and the educational department award, somehow. Daddy and Momma and Ken were so proud of me, it bothered me though because I almost couldn't remember the effort I put in, I was on autopilot I guess.




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