Journal 12 - Livin' inaBox

Well, I'm surrounded by boxes, not sleeping well, we're all stressed out, the car blew a radiator last night, I don't think the folks from Arcadia U want to hire me, and today I have an interview for a high power job I don't really want with a woman who spent most of my phone interview telling me why she didn't think I was qualified. The kids clothes are currently stored in trash bags and my own clothes are in boxes... somewhere. There's no where for them to play inside, and we can't just send them outside because we don't know how safe it is out there. I'm not used to hearing traffic, booming music from cars and the occasional emergency siren. I'm not exactly feelin' the love.

I'm actually feeling very much like an old donkey who's been pulling a heavy coach with a team of big mean horses... and I just sprained an ankle. But I gotta keep it going or else someone might shoot me. Then, who will raise those little donkeys that someone keeps telling me I have back on the farm somewhere... I hope those little donkeys are okay... whoever they are. Where are they again? Who's raising them? No time to think... must keep pulling.

I'm at that age where I can feel my face begin to wrinkle. I always wanted laughter lines, but lately I'm feeling like my face is just starting to droop... it's like the skin is slipping off the tense muscles of my face and despair is making its mark upon my road map.

Dang - it's 9:30... better go find some clean interview clothes... and some make-up.