This isn't how I pictured my life....worrying, scared, wondering....always waiting for the next shoe to drop, the next edge to fall over. Seriously, if I make it through this year, this month, hell - this week - it will be a flippin' miracle. I thought at the ripe old age of 40 that I had finally figured life out. Didn't seem to be anything too difficult. Grow up, raise a family, pay my bills and my taxes, teach my boys right from wrong, take them to church, love my husband, treat people kindly, and believe in God...everything else will fall into place. Right? No, unfortunately it doesn't matter if you do all of those things, even if you do them quite well (most of the time) (I might add!), that edge and that shoe are still there, just waiting to drop.
It's the unknown. The waiting. Feeling like you have no control over anything. Anymore. If I do all of those things, why can't things just fall into place? Why? It's the begging God and then questioning, really, does He exist? Even typing that, questioning HIM, my Catholic upbringing guilts me into believing I'm headed for Hell for even having the audacity to question. But, still I do. How is it that we try to do the best we can, and still the best is not good enough for the planets to align, karma to cooperate and for things to finally work themselves out? Why do bad things happen to good people? And good things happen to bad people? Why?
There is no telling how things will work out tomorrow. Ward has his final interview. Tomorrow his fate, his career and our lives will be determined by eight city council members and one mayor. No matter what happens, opinions, whether wanted or not, will be given. Tongues will flap until they almost cause heads to spin off their shoulders. It's the most newsworthy, gossip fulfilling "happening" going on in our little corner of the world. At least that's what it is to other people. To us? It's our lives. It's a human being we're talking about. Not that that matters to the tongue waggers.
The thing that worries me...the thing I have no control over....the thing that is sending me near the edge is how it will affect him. I can tell him a million times that we will be ok. That it's going to be ok. Whatever it is. But truthfully? I just don't know. People have said viscous, untrue things so far. I can only imagine what will spew out of their mouths if he isn't chosen. The stares. The whispering. The online, anonymous ranting. And there is no control over any of it.
I just don't have a good feeling that they will select him. It's political. The mayor wants change. It doesn't matter that he's the most qualified and most respected, among his peers. Or that he's spent 20 - TWENTY - years working up to this position. Can you imagine? Working toward a goal for 20 years and having it pulled out from under you?
June's about lose whatever is left of her evah lovin' mind. And there isn't much of that left. We all know that. I just wish I had a little more control.
The one thing I do have control over? That full box 'o fermented grapes sittin' in my fridge. So grab a glass, I'll be there in a few....
PS There's been a magnitude of shit that has happened in the Cleaver household this year (besides what is happening to Ward)- and the year isn't even half over. I can typically handle a shitload of shit, but when it's all crammed at the beginning of the year, it's a little much for anyone to handle! After all this is over, we'll sit down, have a glass of wine and discuss it all. It will surely make you sit back and realize that your life doesn't suck after all!
PPS And yes, the rumors are true - when Wally was checked into the hospital, a 3-hour drive took June 4 1/2 hours because she can not maneuver a freakin' loop. It's a loop people!! And yet? Somehow! I still managed to get lost! And no, Kat, I was not even driving in a big city!