Okay. Probably the last time that you checked in with me - if you checked at all - I was still in Jackson but getting ready for the last push and definitely ready to come home. Well, I came home exactly a week ago, and it's been an interesting week. I think I probably need to start with last Monday.
Last Monday - in the middle of finals - my parents were supposed to come and pick up the big stuff - bike, fridge, stuff like that. Only, after going to the wound clinic (my dad had burnt himself in late April, a few days before I left for Toronto - pretty badly, I might add) they were shuffled (my mom who had taken my dad to said clinic) over the emergency room at the hospital (not our local one, but the one about forty-five minutes to an hour away - it's bigger [and also the one I was born in]) where he was later admitted. So, things didn't really go according to the plan that we had expected. Which is okay, because mom showed up on Wednesday with my grandmother's van (which is bittersweet, because it reminds me a lot of the man - a grandfather in every way but by blood - who the family had lost in late January) and we packed that (my car was already packed, which, my mother complimented on) and home we went. Then it was off to the hospital to visit dad. We were thinking, originally, that he was going to come home on that Saturday. Erm...he ended up staying until Monday. In the meantime, back on Wednesday, I had a sightseeing cruise to do, and then the following day was a lunch cruise. So it was back to work for me, which, I was (and still kind of am) really excited about. So he comes home on Monday; I play some soccer with the U-19 girls for fun on that same day (which turns into a joint practice with the U-14 boys because the girls only had three show up to practice, plus me and a friend who also plays [only he plays for the U-19 boys, somewhere]) and from said friend - who is also my boss's son - I have a wonderful bruise on my lower leg/backside of my shin. It's probably not going to get very colorful (I don't really bruise pretty colors unless it's been something fairly major) but it's faintly blue, I think you'll appreciate how big it is. It was made when his knee ran through the ball, and I left my left leg - and my bad left ankle - hanging out to hopefully do something constructive, and got nailed for it. He didn't do it on purpose; he's not that type of guy.
Is he fairly good-looking? Yes, yes he is. Ask my sister, and she'll probably say something else there because she's seen him, and she knows me, but I'm trying to keep this fairly general because I'm not entirely sure who's reading.
Monday was also the day that I started working out again. Which explains why if I stop moving for any length of time, I get really, really stiff muscles and it's almost comical to watch me try to move. It hurts so much that I laugh. That's what happens with me - when I'm physically hurting so badly that most people cry, I laugh instead. It's the oh-my-God-what-the-hell-friggin'-OW! kind of laugh, but still. It's a laugh.
Now, I love irony about as much as the next person, and I'm not lying when I say there are days when I'm first in line to be Mrs. Murphy, step on up and have the good go vaguely off-kilter (because things don't ever go really wrong, only partially). It's starts with my soccer buddy and gets better from there. Namely, the guy that I was pseudo-dating (this were slightly more than a little complicated that summer, before I went to college) and/or seeing (there was also another one, at the same time [don't freakin' look at me like that, as there was nothing concrete with either of them and you should know me by now to know that I don't do shit like that]) is now my coworker. I went to work today, saw someone heading with a shirt like mine (the type I wear to work) and thought, you have got to be kidding me and then decided that somebody Upstairs really enjoys getting a laugh out of the life and times of one Molly Louise. It's fine. I mean, things were a little rough around the edges because I made a choice I thought I had to make - sorry, but I'm seeing someone else -which wasn't quite true in the sense that I would have liked (and I'm still the back up option, which I'm not only quite aware of, but I know that I don't have to be the back up option for anyone) and then went away for college. Well, two weeks of preseason, and then classes and medical shtuff (the h in that phrase is on purpose) and in the end, everything more or less turned out okay. Really, it did.
Well, okay, maybe there's some residual stuff floating around in my head from soccer a year ago, and the whole boys thing, and some more soccer, and some other stuff, but it's no worse than usual. And, on the bright side, I'll work through it. In one way or another - via the blog, the book, or the journal (yeah, I keep one of those) - I'll get through it and everything will eventually (hopefully) make some sort of sense. In the meantime, he's just my coworker (soccer buddy included, because he's also employed there) and I'm still just me. A college junior (now) who enjoys waitressing because she's people-friendly (fairly) and really, genuinely likes going to work.
Needless to say, it's going to be an interesting summer. At the least.