When you wake up, the world will come around.

Taking some time before work. So this will most likely be all over the place. But over the last 10 months, all I've ever felt is all over the place, so I guess it's fitting. 

My childhood home has officially been sold. Many people would think, "Big deal, so what? Everybody moves." But you don't get it. This is the only home I've known for 22 1/2 years. This is the home I grew up in with my mom's gardens- made up of roses, lilacs, vegetables, sunflowers, daffodils, tulips, and thousands of others- that span the entire back yard. The home boasting one of (if not THE) biggest backyards in my entire city. The huge pool. The shed I helped repaint. My first dog buried in the backyard, along with the hamsters and guinea pigs that I just HAD to have. I wasn't ready for this. I feel like my life has just been taken out of my hands and decided for me by someone that really doesn't give a damn about the repercussions. I don't know whether to blame God or my own father. I've been losing faith in God for years now, and pretty much gave up all hope right around my graduation. But my father has committed some of the most desperate acts of betrayal in just the last few months. What can I say, he's good at ruining lives. 

I'll be the first to admit, I don't like change. I never have. I have a crisis every time something changes on me. I, with the help of my oh-so-wonderful-brother, ruined my graduation night because of my fear. Same with my high school graduation, minus the brother part and adding the mother and boyfriend into the mix. So I guess this could just be my horrible way of dealing with something every adult has to face eventually. But I really truly believed my parents were going to live in that house forever. There were no signs of anything pointing otherwise until my dad had his stupid crisis. 

Not done yet- but unfortunately it's time for work. Which, I will have to give up a couple weeks' pay so I can go home early and help my mom move sooner than expected. Thanks again, Dad!

Epiphany

So I just wanted to write this down before I forgot about it. There's a ton of background that should be given first so that this is more easily understood, but I don't have time for that just yet since I should be leaving for work literally right this minute. But I'll get to it later, I promise.

My car alarm wouldn't stop going off today for no good reason. I was sitting here, watching some episodes of "Head Case" on Netflix (hilarious, btw), and heard this stupid car alarm going off. I started getting really really annoyed. Then it would shut itself off and start blaring about 30 seconds to a minute later. So I figured it couldn't be mine since someone else was obviously turning it off, otherwise it would go on continuously forever, right? Wrong. I finally decided, "what the heck? why not try my keyfob and see if it'll turn off that godforsaken car alarm?" And it did. For about 15 seconds. This went on for 2 hours. I didn't know what to do! I finally called my boyfriend (a very good mechanic at a very good company and also for a dragster team- sorry had to brag for a sec) and he thinks it's the wiring gone bad (on a 1 1/2 year old car???? We'll see about that...). But I finally did what he said and just unlocked/relocked it with the actual key and not the keyfob. So far, it hasn't gone off. Yet.

The whole point of this post is mostly that I figured out I'm becoming way too much like my father and it's scaring the hell out of me. I'm convinced my dad's a paranoid schizophrenic. Later blog posts will explain this further- again, I'm running late for work. Anyway, the whole time I kept telling Don "I swear, someone is screwing with me. Someone is setting off my car alarm and trying to mess with my head!" He kept explaining that it takes a lot to make an alarm go off and that unless I've seen someone running up to it and doing stuff to the car (which I didn't- and yes, I did sit there and watch), it must be faulty wiring or something else happening to the alarm itself. But still, I couldn't shake the feeling that my annoying neighbors were messing with me. I was (and sort of still am) convinced that they were screwing with me and trying to get back at me for making noise complaints about their stupid dog that barks incessantly for hours on end (I'm toying with calling animal control because no dog should be left alone for that long to begin with, but that's a post for another day as well). But yeah. Am I becoming as pschotically paranoid as I'm sure my father is? Should I seek help? This is scary. The fact I can realize that it's wrong of me to jump to the conclusion that some person is behind this is a good sign, right? Hmm. We'll see. But I really need to get to work so I will be back later. Adios.