Emotional Novicaine

Today has been a bad day. That sounds so harsh. I should be thankful, and you will understand shortly.

To preface this chain of events, I should reveal that I had a full plan for the day. It was not planned to the minute, but it was, by far, the best I have done lately about organizing my time. My original situation was to wake up at around 10:00AM and get books for this quarter at college. Then, since I am about a week behind, I was going to spend the majority of my day reading the eight chapters from the two textbooks and working on two papers for my English class. All of this is due this coming Wednesday. It should be due Monday, but I am fortunate enough to have the Martin Luther King holiday to extend my time. In addition, I had some laundry and some ironing to do, as well as see what needed done around the house. As you can see, there is quite a bit that I could have accomplished. So far, other than running one load of laundry, very little has gotten done.

This morning, I woke up, after only about 3 hours of good sleep, to the moaning of my father in the next room. It has been a year since I have heard these utterances rising above the quite runble of th furnace and the aquarium pump in the night. Dad was in pain due to a kidney stone. I hope I never have one, but from what I have heard, a kidney stone is far worse than any child birth or surgery one can have. The ambulance comes to pick him up just before 7:00AM. Waiting in the emergency room was torture. I was somewhat concerned about Dad, but I knew what the likely scenario was and that the problem could be dealt with. In the meantime, I was sitting there doing absolutely nothing except being with Dad for the next 6 hours. He is discharged at 1PM, and I think that I can get back into my plans...

The best-laid plans are always spoiled. Just as I was getting ready to venture out to purchase my textbooks, we received a call from my grandmother. She had some computer problems that she wanted me to take a look at. They were related to my upgrading her system this week from Windows ME to Windows XP. I left at a little after 2PM, intending to go to the campus bookstore and go to Grandma's house for a quick visit. I should have known better. There is no such thing as a quick visit. It is a genetic trait from my mother's side, I swear. I have my own fair share of the gift of gab. You're reading part of it right now. What should have been a visit that lasted about an hour turned into nearly 5. I did not get home until nearly 9PM. I ate dinner and then watched a little television, conceding the fact that there is no way I could do any studying tonight, as tired as I am. I figure that I will finish this entry, check my email one last time, and then head to bed.

Of course, this is not the end of my plans. While I was at the hopsital today, I called my little brother to let him know what the situation is. He is naturally concerned about how Dad is doing. He has decided to come home for a couple of days to keep people company, especially Dad. He is on the road right now, I am sure. I enjoy seeing my brother, but he will be here while I am trying to study, and I will feel a certain compulsion to spend time with him. I also hate to be interrupted when I am really trying to accomplish something or have someone "keeping an eye on me." I know he is not going to intentionally be lurking around me constantly, watching my every move. It still bugs me for some reason. He will probably stay until Sunday, which means that my time has now been shortened to about two days, excluding any other issues or interruptions happen to creep up.

I have so many mixed emotions right now. I really shouldn't be upset over that which I can exert no control; I do. Despite my current ramblings, I knew deep down that I should have been there for Dad and should have helped out Grandma. I did the right thing. It just hurts, thinking of yourself as at least somewhat selfless and trying to balance that with my own innate human selfishness, even if that selfishness deals with something that can lead me to a better life.

Another incident today is bugging me. After we arrived home, I made the comment that if my manager at worked asked if I would come in and work, I would politely refuse. Dad asked why, and I told him of the work that I needed to complete by next week. He asked about the deadline, and when I told him, he started on another one of his stories that only serves in unintentionally belittle me. He said that I should have no trouble completing all of that before next week, even if I had to work today. Of course, he compared the two of us; he came out on top, as usual. The capsule summary went something like this, "In college, I worked 60 hours of the week and went to school 20 hours. You don't even work 25 hours and only have 11 credit hours. You can get it done if I did." This proves nothing except, perhaps, that Dad doesn't think very highly of how I conduct myself and that he has better skills at managing his time that I ever have and may never will.

All of this goes to the core of feeling, at least for a short time, that the world is conspiring to prevent my success. While I know this is not true, I can never feel free enough here to think I can outwardly feel that way, even for a short time. I would have to say that living her has really gotten to me; I am at my breaking point. At the hospital, I was mildly concerned. However, I failed to really feel that this situation was worthy of concern. For a number of years now, I have come to realize that I am unable to genuinely feel and show emotions. Yes, I cry from time to time, but I don't have the same personal connection to anyone. I know television is not a good model to follow, but I feel so clumsy compared to either characters on television (who are prewritten, of course) or to real individuals. I have a great deal of knowledge, so I have been told. When it comes to emotions, the only one I know how to feel anymore is despair, and I can't even really feel comfortable sharing that with another human soul.