TW: Death of a grandparent

Well, you’ve been warned.

My grandma died today. It was unexpected. She was totally healthy, aside from being high in age. I hadn’t known, but she was even planning, with other relatives, to fly and visit my parents soon.

It’s sad for the living. I wonder how my dad is holding up. She’s his mom. He hadn’t come down last time there was a family get-together. He was going to see her when she came and visited. I can imagine he would have felt like there was still plenty of time; they were both healthy.

She woke up in the morning. She did the things she normally does. She and my mom were playing a word game electronically with each other; Grandma had put out another letter. But then she was found dead in bed.

All of my grandparents are dead now. It’s kind of unreal. Aside from the initial moments of feeling nothing at all, my next reaction is to crave childhood. To want to go back and re-experience all of the trips and be with them again, from the viewpoint of when life seemed stable and everyone around me was set in themselves and so sure. When I had total trust and faith and belief in the adults around me. And it seemed like everything would last forever.

So I want to curl up and listen to old, familiar music. I want to listen to what my grandparents would listen to, but I can’t think of it. I want to drink the drinks I drank when visiting them all, but most have eluded me. I remember one grandpa’s mystery punch. I remember being allowed to drink these really fancy sodas at the other grandparents’ house. I remember their yellowy-vinel-like table cloth on what I remember as a small, round table. There were a lot of animals there.

At one grandparents’ house, I would play lots of card games. My grandma there enjoyed Gin Rummy and would play any card game. My other grandparents used to play Dominos. I know we also played card games together; was it Hearts? I’ll have to ask my parents.

I can’t believe life.

School goes on, classes go on, work goes on. The people around me go on with their own worries and their own viewpoints. But it’s hard. My mind wants to be in the past. I don’t want to be in this moment. I don’t want to go to class; I don’t want to go to work; I don’t want to chat about anything of interest here. I want Family.

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So angry.

I’m in the rottenest mood on the planet today. I woke up this way. I probably went to bed this way.

How the hell do you get rid of the “grammarly” icon below? I can’t believe how irritating that is. Every moment I’m typing, it’s coming up with more errors, which I’d have to make an account and sign in to see how it wants me to fix them. Shut. Up.

So last week, a person was hired to be a sort of me at work on the days I’m not there. Great, right?

Except, I come in today and the place is a fucking MESS. The dishes are piled in the sink — oh look, they saved them ALL for me. The coffee pot wasn’t even rinsed, nor were the old grounds dumped out from the top. WTH. There’s ink boxes left out near the printers (put them away in their spot, where you got them out from, which is 3 feet away??). She used my COMPUTER. There’s 3 other computers she could have used. She logged me out and logged herself in to my computer! It’s definitely the day for me to clear off all of my personal shit from this machine and log out my usernames. No more remote-access from home for me — guess she’ll be in charge of the faxing now, although nobody’s asked me to show her how to use the new system. Whatever. I don’t care today.

There’s two giant boxes of printer paper — WHY?! I pre-purchased TONS of paper recently — it’s all nicely filed away beneath the printers — and mine is 100% recycled whereas this shit isn’t even 1% recycled! FAIL.

She knocked over my paper shredder and there’s bits of paper around my chair and such now. Looks like she tried to vacuum it up — the vacuum canister is OVER THE FILL LINE with bits of paper — didn’t even empty out the canister after vacuuming!!! Don’t you know how to treat a Dyson?!

Of course, it doesn’t help that all of this was done in “secret”. As if I couldn’t hear them all whispering from the office next to my little desk? … Right. Um, you know, your door doesn’t seal. It just sort of sits ajar… And I’m like 12 feet away… I can hear you discussing your new hire and discussing what tasks she’s going to replace from me… And yes I do know, despite your whispered assurances that I don’t.

And nobody watered the plant all week. Maybe I can take it with me when I leave, which is going to be quite soon.

My uncle gave me the option, do I want to keep working Fridays or quit altogether so I can focus more on my schoolwork? The money tempted me to stay on, but I’ve never felt comfortable in this job. You guys will remember that. I’ve always dreaded and kind of loathed coming here, without knowing exactly why.

Just get me out of here.

Meanwhile, my bf and I have to move out of our apartment. We’ll move out around November 8th. That’s kind of soon. That’s in about 2 weeks. I’ve been crying randomly since figuring that out. I don’t want to move and I certainly don’t think moving in with his dad for $1500/month is the proper alternative. But is my current spot really worth me using up my life’s savings? Get with it, innerdragon. No. Nothing is worth using up my life savings. It’s just a roof over my head. And a fucking amazing kitchen I’m very comfortable and happy with. And a location directly near the public transit and a very nice grocery store. I can hardly breathe.

I woke up with no interest or positivity possible. No smile. No wanting to open my eyes. Only complaints spoken to my bf. Tears as I’m waiting for my train to take me to work this morning. Thinking about $1500/mo for a tiny room at my bf’s dad’s house where the kitchen is tiny and we’ll all be sharing the same toilet. I won’t have my own freezer. I NEED my own freezer. I can’t feed myself if I don’t have my own freezer. And are they going to be arguing politics a lot? Maybe I’m wrong about that.

It’s just a roof over my head. It’s just plot of building in a location I had no right to grow so damn attached to.

Normally, I look forward to things.

  • Listening to “Welcome to NightVale” podcast
  • Practicing Spanish on DuoLingo’s free app
  • Studying Accounting in the tutoring lab when Greta and others are there
  • Taking random photographs

But this morning? I had nothing. Nothing to get me to open my eyes or out of bed. My bf tried so hard. In the end, I begged for something to look forward to this evening. He suggested we could eat icecream together. That worked. Tonight, he and I are going to eat our pistachio-chocolate dairy-free gelatos we have in our freezer that we picked up some weeks ago from the chocolate shop that’s directly outside of our apartment.

I think I need to be gone during the moving process. Maybe I could begin packing right away, and then I will go out of town somehow and just pay for someone to move my things for me. I can’t handle this emotional rollercoaster. Y’all surely remember when I was in charge of moving my workplace, I became quite severely depressed and hopeless. Moving and me DO NOT GO TOGETHER.

I dissociated most of yesterday. That is not my norm. Grammarly is informing me that I have 17 errors worthy of a BOLD, RED CIRCLE IN MY VISUAL FIELD.