We leased an apartment.
This is a positive outcome from a very stressful experience. I'm proud of myself for researching and finding a nice place to live in a nice city. However, moving can be very stressful when time is a factor. And, seeing that we move in 24 days, time is a nemesis.
Jared's parents aren't pleased.
Moving is made even more stressful knowing that we do not have the full support of Jared's family. My parents could care less where I'm living. I haven't needed their approval in my life since the day I left home, a month after my 18th birthday. Jared, however, isn't like that. He's blessed with a family that is an active part of his life. His mother definitely does not approve of our move, because we do not have jobs lined up waiting for us in Minneapolis. She isn't comforted by our savings. I don't know what she expected us to do after the house sold, but I get the feeling it involved moving into an apartment in Platteville so that Jared could continue his low paying, no room for promotion, intellectually unsatisfying job. Perhaps in this economy it's better to stick with a job you hate than be unemployed and living off savings. I've read otherwise. This disapproval makes me feel like a villain. It is hard to stay excited about something when someone is there to point out all the risks.
My dad might have cancer.
I haven't wanted to speak to my father in a very long time. I actively would avoid his calls. I don't enjoy being drunk dialed at noon. On Friday, I received a Facebook message from my Aunt Cathy, his sister, stating that Dad had cancer. I called my Aunt Leigh, also his sister, to get details. That night, at about 4 AM, I called Dad to hear the news first hand. He told me he might have cancer in a way that someone might announce getting a haircut. He has to have surgery to find out if the mass is benign or malignant. I'm calling him Wednesday to hear how the surgery went. I don't know how I feel about the possibility of my father having cancer. He has told my aunts and myself that he wants to die. He might not seek treatment.
I'm still sick.
I'm on week three of The Illness. My throat is still swollen; I'm out of breath; And, my joints ache. Viruses are a menace.
One of my best friends is getting a divorce.
The people I've grown to know over the years are very important to me. Even when we're hours or hundreds of miles apart, I don't stop caring about these people. My heart breaks for my friend who is going through the beginning motions of a divorce. I do not worry about her future. She can accomplish anything she puts her mind to. Right now life is hard for her. All of my thoughts and hopes are with her.
I struggle internally with my own disgust.
I purposely excluded part of our weekend in Minneapolis, because right now I'm not at my best when I try to provide an honest viewpoint. I've decided to share this seeing that I don't believe I'm going to be impartial about this particular nuisance for years. Jared returned a call from his best friend, Michael, on our way back to Platteville. During the call, Michael called Minneapolis a "shit hole." When this was told to me, I felt a rush of hatred. This feeling of such a strong dislike for another human being was alarming. I don't really believe that life should be filled with such strong, negative emotion. I understand that Jared will never purposely remove Michael as a part of his life. At the same time, I do not know how to tackle my own emotions. I'm disgusted by my own hatred.
It takes all my strength to keep smiling as the wind blows against me. The struggle is worth it though. Struggling to let the haters hate while the world does its worse is far better than giving into my own overwhelming sadness. I've been called "spineless" before by a simple minded person who perceived stoicism for weakness. I keep my head held high, just above the water and rely on the knowledge that I know how to swim. Or, at least I can float by until a sunny day. But, that's enough of a nautical storm analogy for one entry.