Drifting along

I haven't felt like writing for awhile. Too tired, too discouraged, too lazy, whatever. Still unemployed, but now there's so many other people in the same boat that it's lost it's cachet. We'll find out around the first of March if Wells Fargo is going to foreclose on our house. I'm barely keeping myself dressed these days, how am I supposed to deal with finding somewhere else to live and moving?

Got a call from one of the sisters a couple of weeks ago. I knew as soon as I heard her voice it would be something bad (this particular sister being the one that excommunicated me from the family--it was her way or the highway, guess which one I chose) and it was. My mother has inoperable, widespread cancer. Liver, kidneys, spine, lung, lymph nodes, adrenal gland. Very aggressive, very fast. Doctors won't even consider chemo, as it would kill her faster than the cancer.

I caved, Himself and I drove in to see her. Called first to arrange for the best time and got the expected tears, drama, recriminations. Where have you been, why haven't you called or visited since GG died, blah blah blah. I did manage to find my voice and tell her straight out why I didn't care to speak to her since the Fiesta ware Incident. Of course she doesn't remember anything about that, denied it completely, implied that I was making it up. I thought about printing out her emails and sending them to her but a) she'd just say I made those up, too, and b) I don't care enough about it to make the effort to find a stamp.

I've toyed with the idea of getting back in her good graces. It would be as simple as writing a big ol' tear-jerker of a letter, accepting all the blame, begging her forgiveness. I'm good at writing fantasy. By the time she dies I could be her number one daughter, if I wanted to be. I haven't decided yet.

I'm tired now, signing off.