Love is…

I’m turning in my notice tomorrow at FedEx.  I had an entire wall of boxes fall on me yesterday and I could barely get out of bed this morning.  I am done.  I’m sure this is not a sound financial decision on my part, but I survived without the extra income prior to October, and I can continue to do so after my last paycheck is received.  I cannot afford to put myself in situations where serious injury is common whether or not an individual is careful.  The chick that was taken to the hospital a few weeks ago is not overly careful; in fact she scared the crap out of me whenever I helped her unload a trailer.  I am obsessively careful; although I was not seriously injured this time, I could have been.  I talked to HR about the situation and I feel as though what I had to say was important to someone, but it was too little too late.  I was able to confirm that FedEx does not have a required 2 week notice policy, a day of notice is sufficient, but I will tell the big boss that I’m done as of Saturday.

I have spent more money today than I have in the past few months combined, but I’m happy.  I just bought airline tickets to go and see my best friend for what I am sure will be the best 15 days in recent memory.  I’m so glad I had planned for this trip because Ashley needs it more than I do.  She has been telling me almost on a nightly basis that Daddy left because he doesn’t like her.  I wish I could make a video of her saying something like that and attach it to our immigration file because I know it absolutely pulverizes the already shattered pieces of my heart into dust when she says something like that.  I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can survive without becoming a hollow shell of my former, much happier, self.

I swear if I have to listen to one more ‘woe is me’ tangent from my sister-in-law I’m going to flip out.  My brother is a jackass; I get it ok?  Any idiot can see that for themselves.  My brother didn’t say Happy Valentine’s Day to Carol and isn’t planning on taking her out anywhere this weekend because they have no money.  I simply said to the room in general, “I would pay any price for the privilege of a face-to-face conversation with my husband right about now.”  Exit stage left.  Shame on you for making me feel as though my problems are nothing compared to the tragedy that is (apparently) your life.

Just under 2 months before I get to see him again…  There’s so much to do and not enough hours to get it all done.  How am I supposed to know what to pack?  Oh God, it’s been almost 3 years since…

Ciao