nixtress's Diaryland Diary

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Mundane Sunday and Father's Day.

Sleep is a gift. I truly believe that. I crashed before 10:30 last night and slept in this morning. My body was thanking me in subtle ways and screaming at me in not so subtle ways.

My calves are feeling the 10 plus hours of walking yesterday. My sunburn has..ripened. No other way to put that. I'm a lovely shade of scarlet. And even my scalp hates me for it. Brushing my hair this morning even had me twinging a bit. It's spectacular. The sort of feelings that come only in the summer, only after much time spent outside and in the sun. It's lovely to be reminded that I'm still (fairly) young and alive and active.

I bought spray that promises to kill the poison ivy that's growing in an extremely healthy manner up the side of my garage. I think that poison ivy is now wearing over a gallon of the spray--let's see if it even touches it. Seriously, I'm doubting it. This is the healthiest batch of poison ivy I've seen in my entire life. It's huge and green and ..yuck. Promising to give me a case of the itchies.

And I just got a call from work asking me to fill in for four hours tonight.

Stuporvisor needs to fix this problem quickly. I'm about fed up. We had a call-off for second shift and now one for third. All people who only work, on average, three days a week. The girl who should have stayed over for part of second shift, left. One declined to come in, one called off and one hasn't returned a call all day. That, per the norm, leaves me.

I'm glad for the work, as much as the unreliable people irritate me. My next check is going to kick ass in a major way. Plus, it's that many less hours I'm available for call-in. The boys will be sleeping, no missing me there. What's not to enjoy?

***

Father's Day..this is the first year since my stepfather died that I haven't gone to the tree where he crashed his car to leave a note and a card for him. For me, that was the closest thing I had to him, the only place where I felt some small part of him might still be. I wish, more than any word could ever say, that his mother had left his ashes here in Ohio with us. As silly as it may sound, we'd then at least have a place to..visit. I miss him. I miss being called Munchkin and Nix. I miss how he might have been with my sons, how very much he'd have enjoyed their spirit. I miss the talks we had, when he was sober enough to have them. As many times as I screwed up, he stood by me. He, probably more than anyone, reminded me that we're all human, we all falter and it's all in how we learn from it that makes the difference. He loved me. Twisted as my upbringing was, he was more of a father to me than my bio-dad. He was there for so many years of my life. And then he wasn't anymore.

I still have conversations with him, when I'm down or when I really miss him. I hope, somewhere, somehow that he is happy now. I hope he's at peace. I hope he knows how much we miss him.

Happy Father's Day, Dad.

N.

8:15 p.m. - 2004-06-20

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