I'm sittin here chillin, not doin shit. I finally got of my lazy butt and cleaned up this computer room. I need to do the rest of the house, but, eh, I'll get to it.
As I was cleaning up, I came across some pictures the kids drew when they were in preschool. Fuzzy feelings came forth. I barely have their infancy documented; life was much different then. Looking back reminded me of worse times: when I hated myself, had no direction, the incessant daily struggle of just...existing.
My situation is shakey right now but I remember when things were worse and can't believe how I made it. My optimism has been renewed. The tail end of 2k4 was a trial for me and difficult to not becomed engulfed in feelings of failure. Maybe I am too hard on myself.
Blonde Wonder got hold of my Amazon Wish List and bout me a Crimmh gift. I don't expect gifts from anybody but was really shocked when this extra random box arrived at my door. She gave me Mis-education of the Negro and the new Green Day cd. I was so *dead*! Talk about opposite ends of the spectrum.
Yesterday, I received a call that shook me. The Office of Early Childhood Development called and told me to come in to apply for daycare vouchers for the kids. I could barely breathe. After being waitlisted for a year and a half, I pretty much forgot about it. DC really aint into helpin folks if you aint on drugs or a welfare queen. I wasn't bothered by the call, per se, but when the intake officer asked me how many children were being placed, I paused. It was a reminder of the life that's no longer living. Daycare costs were one of the reasons I decided it's not the time for me to mother a small one, and look at what happens. Things are being laid out to help me. I wonder what lies ahead since I decided to alter my fate.
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