Today, Sept, 11

I got a job at Walmart. I start the 16th. $7.50 an hour and I’ll be working between 30 and 33 hours. I got my TB test (required for substituting) the other day. I’ll sub as much as they will call me and work at Walmart from 5 pm till whatever time. This isn’t how I wanted my life to be and it’s not how I want it to be. I want to be in a school full time. I don’t want to be there on a momentary basis, as a bystander—I want to be there full time, a part of the culture. I so miss the culture.

I feel like I’m being split down the middle.

And yes, today is an anniversary of that awful day in our history. I will never forget where I was and what I was doing. I was sitting in the teachers lounge of a school, and I had on CNBC. I watched the first plane or the aftermath of the first plane hit and then the 2nd. I walked down the hall and told the school secretary that we were under attack. When I went to the 2nd school ( I traveled between schools ) I found out that there was a plane that was headed toward the White House but it crashed in Pennsylvania and that a plane crashed in the Pentagon.

It was an awful day and time, to say the very least.

Someone was on my mind the whole time. I know I’m not using his name or the alias I gave him now---I just can’t for some reason.

I had a strange dream last night. I dreamed my mother was still alive but she was going to die. I’ve had those dreams before, that she was dying again. There were people taking boxes out of our house. I guess we were going to live with the uncle whom Matthew Perry should play. Somehow I met a friend I hardly ever see. Somehow there was a baby left somewhere and I was going to take this baby. My cousin (my aunt’s daughter; the aunt that just moved in) was in the dream. We were all traveling, and I was determined to raise this baby. Well, someone let the authorities know about it and the baby disappeared. I can’t forget what it looked like. It had curly brown hair and squinty brown eyes. I was so irked that they did that. My mother wasn’t acting like my mother, and I kept thinking, this has got to be a dream. I wish I would wake up. Why am I not waking up? This person isn’t acting like my mom/mother. We stopped somewhere, and I was talking to someone I went to school with a long time ago, and I told her I was going to be waiting for my mother to die.

I know I’m not saying his name or the alias I gave him. I just can’t right now. Something happened over the past week, and I said all I can say about it in the other post. I wish I could explain more.

I can say that I never quite got over him the way I should have. I know that now. When I had my job, the job I loved ( and I’ve been in mourning over losing it all this time, from August of ’07 till even now ), I didn’t think about him or what happened. It was in a separate place. It was over. I thought I had moved on. It was in its own box in my life, but that box has been opened. It’s almost smothering, knowing I can not face him on what happened, and that I must live in this solitary place with it. It’s a solitary place. I will say that during this past week or so, I felt a closeness to him, though I couldn’t see him and I felt those wrongs had been made right, when it was like I went on a “mini-vacation,” or “trip.” May sound weird. There’s been two images I’ve had of him all this time---the person who would listen to me, who seemed to believe in me, who knew my name, and then the person who said what he said and went on to seemingly have a great life. I have wondered if what I experienced was just a “fluke.” I don’t think “fluke” is in the dictionary if someone doesn’t know what it means. I have thought it meant, a rarity, an oddity, something by accident.

Well, I feel a little better.

Cindy