Just One of Many

We got out of Biology early today. Thank God for that too. I was falling asleep. And it doesn't help much when I sit in the very front, right in front of his desk. I couldn't help it though. Biology is every Tuesday and Thursday at freaking 8 A.M., so that means we have to get up at 6 because of the traffic, because I drop Andrea off at UT before heading over to St. Ed's (she also has an 8 A.M. "class" every Tuesday and Thursday: basketball), and because Andrea takes forever and a day to get ready to go anywhere. Whatever. You'd think after how many years of living with her, I'd be used to it. I'm not. It still pisses me off every time we're late.

That's one of my pet peeves...being late to things, especially movies. I don't want to go if we're late, even if that means we'd just be missing the previews. Most of the time, I won't even bother going to that showing if I missed them. I absolutely hate it.

Anyhow...

We went home this weekend for Mom's birthday. I don't even know why we go home sometimes. We don't even see her because she works all of the time. Mom has two-full time jobs; and even then, she still insists on working over-time. She works on the weekdays at the elementary school from 8 A.M. to 2 P.M. Then at night, she works at the state hospital from 11 P.M. to 7 A.M. I know that there's a nine hour gap between the two jobs, but she doesn't sleep during that time. She's always doing something, whether she's shopping to relieve her compulsive hoarding, running errands, or watching hours of last night's DVRed episodes of The Bachelor, American Idol, or Dancing with the Stars. On her day's off from the hospital, or on weekend mornings after her night shift, she goes in to work over-time. And, she NEVER calls in. I just don't get it. Does she think working so many hours is going to get her a fucking medal? Maybe she thinks working so much will land her new friends and put her higher on the social and professional ladder? Whatever the answer is, it just doesn't seem worth it. That's just me though. She's been a workaholic for as long as I can remember. Even when Andrea and I were growing up, we seldom saw her. That's not exactly true. We saw her a lot because she ran the after school day care program at the elementary school, so we'd see her when we'd go over there to help out. But still. Outside of that though, we never saw her...just like this weekend.

We got into town on Friday afternoon and left Sunday afternoon. We saw Mom, literally, for three hours. One hour on Saturday afternoon for lunch, and then for another two hours for lunch on Sunday, which was her birthday...which was also a disaster. Mom's a huge sucker for any kind of drama. Now, add that to my temper, and you get a huge scene, the kind that influences a lot of movies and books.

When she got off of work at 3 P.M. from her OT shift from the hospital, we told her to pick a restaurant since it was her birthday. I know that a lot of us are so indecisive when it comes to choosing a place to eat. We're just like that, but about 17 times worse. We NEVER know where to eat. And it's not like there's such a selection in Kerrville either. The nicest place in town is Chili's or Mamacita's. And by nicest, I'm talking about the ambiance, not the food. Mamacita's is really nice inside, but the food? Disgustingly terrible Tex-Mex, and pretty pricey. We ate at Chili's for lunch yesterday because Andrea worked, and because of her 50% discount...which, by the way, I miss terribly. Eating cheap or for free is the only thing I miss about working at Chili's. Well, and the bragging rights that I serve people Southwestern Eggrolls and Chocolate Molten Cake (which, by the way, always pissed me off when people would ask for the "chocolate volcano lava cake"). Not really though. But I did enjoy the fact that I could wear a black t-shirt and jeans to work. It was like dressing down and getting paid for it. Paid poorly too, mind you. Okay, so maybe I don't miss that part.

But back to what I was saying...

So, Mom had no idea where she wanted to eat. She kept saying, "Wherever you want to. I don't care." We had to repeatedly explain to her that she was the one who had to choose since it was, in fact, her freaking birthday. We were just parked in the parking lot in a quasi-shopping center, where there nearest surrounding restaurants were a CiCi's Pizza, a Quizno's, a McDonald's, and a Culver's. I know...who takes their mom on her birthday to a fast food joint? Us. She doesn't like Mamacita's, and we had Chili's yesterday, so there was nothing else. Besides, we had to go somewhere fast because Andrea and I had to drive back home to Austin.

We were in the parking lot for a good thirty minutes or so, just arguing back and forth. It finally got to the point where I told her that it was useless that we came down at all for the weekend, and that I didn't have time for this crap because I had so much work to do for school. And it was true. I had homework for Bio lab, and I had more studying to do for my Chemistry exam. When I say something like that, even if it is true, it always makes my mom cry. I don't know why though...I mean, I'm not lying to her. It's probably in how I say it. I'm too blunt about it, and she overacts to my tone. Whatever.

So, Mom started crying at what I said. Andrea got mad and yelled at me, "Why did you fucking say that? You know she cries when you say shit like that!" So obviously, she was only adding more fuel to the fire. It's always like this. I know it doesn't sound too bad or dramatic when I write it out, but if you could only see all of this happening. We were all yelling at each other in the parking lot, just like a Trailer Trash family. Mom was in the car crying her fucking brains out, Dad was in the driver's seat just sitting there in silence (he doesn't care about anyone but himself), Shobe and Shoti were just sitting in my car's backseat in silence while watching us, Andrea was standing in between their and my car, and I was in my car in the driver's seat boiling and thinking that I couldn't fucking wait to go to med school in Portland. I seriously think she's chemically imbalanced. That's the first thing I'm doing when I'm a doctor: prescribing medication to improve my mother's mental health. Then I'm moving for good. When I fight with my mom, it just makes it so much easier for me to find the determination to move out-of-state, away from her.

When she stopped crying, she said she wanted to eat at Culver's. And we did. I didn't even eat because I was still so frustrated and fucking angry with her. The kids got her roses, and Grace, Andrea, and I got her a Coach purse. Andrea picked it out. I didn't really like it, but whatever. I'm not even sure if Mom liked it. Who cares anyway?

Then after that, we left to go back home. I know that this happened on Sunday, but I'm still a little irritated. I tend to stay mad for a while...especially when it comes to her.

In other news, I have a Chemistry test tomorrow morning at 9. I'm not too worried about it, but I do have more studying to do. There's a review tonight at 8:30. It's late, but I'll still go to listen. I just finished my Evolution class, which I absolutely fucking hate, so I'm free till the review. So in the meantime, I'll be studying...I should be studying right now, instead of writing on this. It won't be too bad. I say that now, until I'm sitting in front of my exam, completely blank, regretting writing this confident paragraph. We'll see though.