4.22.17

So, technically it’s not 4.22, it’s 4.23, but I am drunk. My fiancée and I went out with a friend and we got into an argument over exes, but honestly, that is the last thing I want to talk about right now. I’m sick as hell right now. I have a raging headache from my sinuses, not even from the beer. I can’t hear out of my left ear and I just laid down in bed at 2:45am to hear my fucking rooster start crowing. I swear I might wring his damn neck tonight. Holy shit.

Fucking chicken.

Anyway, idk. I don’t have much to say right now worth writing. I’ll write tomorrow. G’night!

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4.21.17

I feel like I am not myself. My head is heavy and I am dizzy. I hate being sick. This whole week has been about not feeling well. There’s so much I’ve wanted to do. Get in the pool, work on the chicken coop some more, play board games. Anything would be better than this, really.

My fiancée and I have been watching Shameless on Netflix. It’s such a good show and all of the actors are superb. We are in season 5 right now.

I originally started this blog because I was hoping to make money from it, which doesn’t seem to be the case just yet.

I forgot to buy deodorant when I was at the store yesterday.

We currently live with my fiancée’s family and we plan to build an apartment in the backyard. Eventually were going to rent it out and buy our own house. I can’t wait to get started, but it does cost money and plus it’s getting pretty hot outside. I’m not sure how we’re going to build it in the heat and I don’t want to shell out over $20k for the labor when we can just do it ourselves. I know it sounds like some people’s worst nightmare, to live with their in-laws, but it’s great to me. We’re very family oriented. Her dad has become my biggest father figure that I’ve ever had in my life which I didn’t realize how badly I needed one until I met him.

My dad died when I was 14. My mom woke me up in the middle of the night and told me my uncle had just called and said he was in a car accident. At that point, I was thinking we could go visit him right away and I pictured him hooked up to monitors, maybe some broken ribs, but overall he would be fine. She started to cry and said he didn’t make it. I felt my blood turn to ice, my entire body just gave up on trying to sit up and I collapsed into my bed. My entire world, as I knew it, had come to a screeching halt. Gravity seemed to have tightened its grip on me and oxygen escaped the room, suffocating me. We hadn’t spoken in over a year and we were arguing. My last words to him were something to the tune of “go to hell” when he asked if I would come visit him over email. I wish I could take back every word. He didn’t deserve that. The reason I wrote the email to begin with was because of this psychiatrist I had, I think her name was Mickey. She told me to write to him everything I felt and don’t hold back, so I didn’t and now it’s my biggest regret in life. I know we would probably have gotten along great now since I’m older and not as immature as I was. He lived in Nicaragua and my family ended up having the funeral before I could get there, which I think was within 2 days. Their reasoning? They didn’t think I was coming. That was and will be the biggest disappointment in my life. I got to go to the memorial service though, which was okay, I guess. I’ll never forget how empty, cold, and alone I felt. A part of me died with him that night. There were times when I would be on my knees with a rosary or a statue of Mary begging for a sign of him. I don’t even believe in God, but I was willing to do whatever it took to be in his presence again. I would cry on the floor until my eyes were swollen and I was drooling and my nose was running everywhere. It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life and it always will be.

When I was 6, I had this next door neighbor who used to be my best friend. His parents would leave their garage door open about 5″ or 6″ for the cats to run in and out. He dropped a baseball or something and it rolled out. I stuck my head under to try to reach it and my head was too big to fit. He ended up pushing the button and instead of going up, it went down. I ended up needing stitches and I remember the nurses holding me down while he stitched my head since I guess they were worried I had a concussion. I remember I used to have nightmares that I pushed my head through and the garage door came down on my neck. There’s actually still a dent in the garage door from where my head was. Anyway, I have a scar from where my hair starts right above my temple to almost the back of my head to remind me of the stupidity of my younger days. The whole point of that story is that losing my dad hurt worse than the garage door almost crushing my head.

That’s all for tonight, folks! G’night! 🙂