Today while walking around asking about jobs and filling out applications. I noticed that most places were playing Christmas music or already decorating for Christmas. This brought about me thinking about Christmas and the question most every person has been asked for most of their lives.
What do you want for Christmas?
A lot of people would ask for cash or other material things like cars, video games, DVDs, etc. Some would ask for world peace, a greener planet, and so on. But there are a lot of us out there that would just like a job.
So many people take their job for granted. They complain or don't put their whole effort into it. This just saddens me because I know I would work harder than that.
Those of us who exhausted unemployment and still have no job, would kill for anything even seasonal. Something to just get money coming in and not have to worry about being able to pay the bills that month. Even though it's just a few months, it's a few months that we won't have to scrounge for every penny and know that we can make it a little longer.
So I ask you; what do you truly want for Christmas?
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Empty Room
For some time now I have thought about starting a blog, but I never did. Until now, but why now? I don't really know except that it felt like the right time. Probably because I had one of those "want to write in a journal" moments. Anyways, let me get to the reason behind the need to start this blog.
For the last week and a half I have been staying at my folks place because I need the money my mom offered to pay me to watch the animals. I was hoping they would come home today, but they won't be back until Tuesday sometime. Which ticks me off a bit cause I'd like to go home, but hey money is money.
But anyways, this room I've been staying in has been MY room for over 15 years and I came in tonight and was getting ready for bed only to realize that this isn't the room I grew up in. The white walls used to have posters, photographs and other "things" that I thought were important to me. The shelves above my bed used to have figurines and other knick knacks that I thought were cool. The bookcase used to be filled with books. Now these white walls are bare, the shelves are pretty much empty and my bookcase holds no books. It just has a pile of junk on it. My things are sitting in a corner boxed up or are already moved out.
This room is no longer my room.
It is weird saying that cause now I don't have a place at my parents house. Soon this room will have pink walls and another little girl's things in it. My parents aren't moving, but my baby niece will be taking over this room. The stars I wanted on my ceiling for years are finally there, but they aren't my stars. They are HER stars.
Part of me weeps knowing that I no longer have a place here. It's just weird cause for some reason I have always pictured having a room at my parents place and then moving all my things out when I finally got married. One of those "yes, I am finally an adult and don't need mommy and daddy" moments. I don't know why I ever thought that, I guess movies put that into my head or I'm just old fashioned. Plus I haven't really lived here since I left for college, well except for when I had to move back right after college.
Either way this part of my childhood is closed. I only have the memories that are now in those boxes. There will be no fantasy good bye moment that you see in movies like father of the bride. It will be just me putting the clothes I brought into my duffel, walking out and going home.
My life isn't here anymore. It is in a 2 bedroom apartment with the man I love and our 2 cats. Sure I can come and stay, but this isn't really my home anymore. This is just a place I grew up and this room is just an empty room.
For the last week and a half I have been staying at my folks place because I need the money my mom offered to pay me to watch the animals. I was hoping they would come home today, but they won't be back until Tuesday sometime. Which ticks me off a bit cause I'd like to go home, but hey money is money.
But anyways, this room I've been staying in has been MY room for over 15 years and I came in tonight and was getting ready for bed only to realize that this isn't the room I grew up in. The white walls used to have posters, photographs and other "things" that I thought were important to me. The shelves above my bed used to have figurines and other knick knacks that I thought were cool. The bookcase used to be filled with books. Now these white walls are bare, the shelves are pretty much empty and my bookcase holds no books. It just has a pile of junk on it. My things are sitting in a corner boxed up or are already moved out.
This room is no longer my room.
It is weird saying that cause now I don't have a place at my parents house. Soon this room will have pink walls and another little girl's things in it. My parents aren't moving, but my baby niece will be taking over this room. The stars I wanted on my ceiling for years are finally there, but they aren't my stars. They are HER stars.
Part of me weeps knowing that I no longer have a place here. It's just weird cause for some reason I have always pictured having a room at my parents place and then moving all my things out when I finally got married. One of those "yes, I am finally an adult and don't need mommy and daddy" moments. I don't know why I ever thought that, I guess movies put that into my head or I'm just old fashioned. Plus I haven't really lived here since I left for college, well except for when I had to move back right after college.
Either way this part of my childhood is closed. I only have the memories that are now in those boxes. There will be no fantasy good bye moment that you see in movies like father of the bride. It will be just me putting the clothes I brought into my duffel, walking out and going home.
My life isn't here anymore. It is in a 2 bedroom apartment with the man I love and our 2 cats. Sure I can come and stay, but this isn't really my home anymore. This is just a place I grew up and this room is just an empty room.
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