Work is done.
Last weekend of summer.
Official or unofficial?
Who cares.
I get to sleep in.
Work is done.
Last weekend of summer.
Official or unofficial?
Who cares.
I get to sleep in.
My words.
Creation involved.
Meaningless or thoughtful?
Does anyone care?
Sounds recorded on a page.
Ghost writer, I am not.
Coughing my lungs out.
Head pounding.
Nose dripping like a faucet.
Fever comes and goes.
At least I had a few days of fun before this laid me low.
Hurting people.
Not respecting them.
Enslaving them.
To turn around
To helping them.
Making sure laws were made
So others cannot hurt them.
All that could be said
Was a change of heart.
Moments of happiness.
Tears of sadness.
Joy and laughter.
Grumbling and swearing.
One day can bring it all.
Little blessings
Treating people kindly
May mean your day
Can go from a horrible experience
To one of knowing
That you are having a good day
Things come in threes.
Superstition says.
Sometimes I play along.
Other times a brick gets slapped into my face.
Through will alone
I will get through these troubling days.
Luck and self sacrifice
Have deserted me.
My wishes are not coming true
In the way that is the best for me.
Things will work out in the end.
I just fear it will mean I end up homeless.
School is starting up again.
Audit is in the process.
A trip planned still needs work on.
Finances are unsure.
Friends are amazing,
but guilt stops me from asking for more.
Yeah, things could get worse.
Like the stress causing my depression to spike!
Hospitals can be anxiety inducing places.
So having someone come and sit with you while you wait is soothing.
Emergency rooms are renowned for long wait times.
Each time I have visited a hospital
it was usually there to visit a patient.
That seems to be my role.
So yesterday, when the phone call came
“Mom, I’m in the hospital.”
I knew exactly what I needed to do.