a month in the lifeA quick pictorial about my last few weeks.
I was run off the road by an SUV driver pulling in front of me. I suppose I could've stayed my ground, but I'm sure the results would've been worse than this. I hit a concrete pole in the median.
I got a speeding ticket about a month ago. I was going 37mph in a 30. And, that 30 was on a main road that drops from 45. In the ghetto. Of which I was desperately trying to get out of quickly. I thought the court date was the 21st, but it was the 17th. I realized this on the 19th. So, I had a warrant out for my arrest, my license was revoked, and my fine was upped. My $100 ticket (FOR GOING 7 MILES AN HOUR OVER THE SPEED LIMIT) was upped to $150. YAY!
The tequila's been in there at least five years, so no preaching about the alcohol.
You know, I grew up in a nice middle class family. My father made nearly $200,000 a year, and I never went without anything that I needed. However, I wasn't spoiled either. I was taught the value of hard work, and that money should be earned. I've had a job since I was 15, and I bought my first car outright. Without my parent's help. When my parents first were divorced, I lived in my house - alone. My father paid the mortgage and electric, but everything else was my responsibilty.
Anyway, I'm rambling. The point being:
I've never thought I'd see the day when our fridge was empty.
I've been poor. I've lived in my car. But it kills me that my mother, a 55 year old woman, has no food to eat. That soon when my father's alimony runs out, she won't have anything. I really don't know how she's going to survive. I don't think she can. And, I feel it's my duty, my job, my responsibilty to support her.
I want to cry.
I do cry.
I cry because I don't want to be her when I'm older. I don't want to be me. I don't want to be responsible for her for the rest of my life. I don't want to feel guilty for feeling this way. I don't want to be in this situation. At all.