Mama – Day 74

The landscapers were out in full force again today. I am in pain. I am miserable. My spouse once told me that she would move to another state provided I found a job.  We couldn’t move if we didn’t have money. Last spring, I was desperate to get out of this condo in order to salvage my mental heath. Desperation drove me to applying for a job in Baltimore. I figured why not. I couldn’t find a job in Jersey. But I rocked several interviews in Baltimore. As a result, I was offered a job. A full time teaching position. I was ecstatic. Finally, I could see the light. But then my spouse informed me that I could move to Baltimore, but she was keeping my son in New Jersey. If she found a job, they would join me. IF. That meant if she didn’t find a job, I’d be surrendering my child. That was not an option. After years of searching for a job and not finding one in Jersey, I finally had a chance to earn my own money. But I had to decline the offer. Given the choice, gainful employment or my son — well, it wasn’t really a choice, was it? And so I fell into a deeper depression. For me there was no out. No escape from this condo. No job, no paycheck of my own. And the noise still tortures me — the pain gets worse every day.  Now do you understand why I feel imprisoned?

Because of the noise that lasted many hours — it is 5:30 and there are still landscapers out and about — I had a very unproductive day. But my son and I did enjoy playing tennis — in the rain. Which he said was great because it cooled him off. 

We were watching the news this evening as I made dinner. I listened as they spoke about the riots last night in Minnesota. While I don’t believe the violence was right, I certainly understand it. Cops continuously get a way with murder — literally. And the one cop, the cop that pressed his knee against Floyd’s neck, it’s not the first time he was involved in such a brutal and racist act. Yet, he kept getting a pat on the back. I keep hearing people say there are good cops. Where are they? Why aren’t they speaking out against these acts of violence? Good guys don’t stay silent while crimes are being committed. But cops have this brotherhood. They protect each other. They won’t even give each other a speeding ticket. If they are permitted to break the law time and time again on the road, well, why do we expect them to uphold other laws? We need to hold them accountable to the same laws — across the board — as every other citizen. 

But I suppose one thing Americans are great at is not obeying laws, rules, advice, or anything else they perceive as making their own lives a bit more challenging. We are a selfish nation. At this point, if people refuse to wear a mask, if they flout social distancing regulations, they deserve to get sick and suffer serious debilitating problems for the rest of their life. This evening, my rude neighbors, had friends over. There were at least eight of them sitting around a tight circle outside — not nearly six feet apart from each other — and not a single one of them was wearing a mask. The condo units  are squished together, so some of them were barely six feet away from me. I wish I was still sick. I would have enjoyed infecting all of them, since they seem to have no regard for anyone else — including my family. While they were talking, I overheard them complaining about rules and regulations in stores and how they are tired of being inconvenienced. It’s not right that they have to wait on lines and it’s crazy that they make you walk certain ways in the store. And it’s time more business open. Things have been closed long enough. My dad is dead, and these assholes are bitching about laws that are meant to help keep them alive. Perhaps I should mention, the lovely hosts of the gathering are not spring chickens. Why aren’t they the ones suffering? 

I am fed up. Disgusted with everyone. All I want is a quiet little retreat. A house in the middle of nowhere where I can live without people — except of course my son. He’d have to be there with me. I’d want to hear nothing but running water and birds, cicadas and frogs. Nature. I want to be surrounded by nature. This blog already witnessed my dad’s physical decline. His death. I fear you are all about to witness my mental decline next if I don’t get to move ASAP.

It took all day, but I finally had a moment of peace, an hour, cuddled up with my son to read. Dad’s cousin sent my son a subscription to The Week Junior, and awesome magazine that has sparked some really good conversations between me and my son. We also read a few pages in Prince Caspian.

Snapshot Rewind

1977-ish: Dad took us to Lum’s (it no longer exists, but I believe it used to be somewhere on Northern Boulevard) for dinner. It was his favorite Chinese restaurant. I was little, but I always enjoyed eating out. And according to my parents, I always ate well. Since we were going out to dinner, my parents dressed me up and I took my little red Mickey Mouse — or maybe it was Minnie Mouse — purse. (I will pause for a moment so you can all chuckle at the image of me looking like a girl.) After dinner, I reached into my purse, pulled out three pennies — it was all I had — and told Dad that I’d leave the tip. He smiled and thanked me. Of course, he left a real tip as well, but he let me feel as if I were helping him pay. As if I were a grown-up and not just a little kid.