Well, I meant to post about a week ago, but as I worked for a week straight, I was just too tired at the end of the day to do anything.
I intended to post with all the great pictures I got at the Garden State Sheep Breeder's Thing, but eh. They're really not the best and it's nothing you guys haven't seen before.
I was going to write about my knitting projects I have going and about how I organized my stash (as organized as it will ever become, that is). But I don't have pictures and I just don't want to right now.
I'm tired. I'm tired of people around me dying, I'm tired of people being on the edge, I'm tired of working for Pizza Hut as the Hours Bitch who gets whatever the manager throws at her (which is quite a lot, considering) and says, "Thank you, can I have some more?". I'm tired of being tired. I cling to my days off with a ferocity that almost undermines the point of having a day off. I finally have free time, so now I have to get all of these things done before I have to work again and won't be able to. I don't HAVE free time anymore, really. Well, I do. I use my free time for things like laundry and cleaning and yelling at my bank for taking money out of my account for no reason.
And now my grandmother is dead, and I kind of feel bad for not being more upset. After the age of about 6 or 7, I never saw my grandmother. I would get birthday cards from her for a few years after we stopped visiting for Christmas, but eventually those stopped, too. It bothered me to some small degree that she and my granddad never made the effort to keep in touch, but if they didn't want my acquaintance then tough for them. Their loss. I went on with my life.
About six or so years ago, we started getting news of my grandmom's failing health. At first, I was very upset. And then she bounced back. And she would keep bouncing back, every time. After a while, you started to feel like it was no big deal if she was in the hospital because she'd just bounce right back again in a week or so.
This time she didn't.
It's kind of a hollow sadness in my heart right now. I feel sad because she's my grandmother, and I do have happy memories of her from when I was young. But I'm also sad because I never really got to know her. I don't remember her face well. I remember tan, leathery skin. Rough hands (she had very bad psoriosis on her palms). Perfume (do all old ladies wear tons of the stuff?). Thin, curly bleached hair. The beach house, decorated with lots of elephants and those creepy stuffed dolls that are hiding their faces against various walls or decorative vases.
The half-sized Christmas tree. My grandfather took a fake tree and split it down the middle to fit it against a wall, so it didn't take up much room.
Well, rest in piece Grandmom. Hope you're in a happier place.