...Not Healthy, Nor Wealthy, Nor Wise
- One day Dadzilla has to go in for an operation. They install a pacemaker. He's in the VA Hospital for several days. When he comes home, he has to take it easy for a while. He also has follow up appointments I take him to. He insists on leaving for his 3:00pm appointment at 12:30pm. “You're going to sit around bored, Dad.” “No I won't; sometimes they take you early if you get there early.”
- Hours and hours later, while I sit sleeping in the car, Dadzilla hobbles out on his cane. The look on his face tells the whole story. The words in his mouth retell it, just in case I had a peaceful rest. “I waited there for 2 hours! Goddamn doctors and nurses!” “Blah, blah, blah.” All I can hear is Charlie Brown's school teacher: “Wah wah wah wah, wah wah wah.” “...and I have to come back in a month.” Oy. A cacophony to my ears. Maybe we can just sleep in the parking lot overnight and save ourselves the mad dash back to be 2 hours early.
- Dadzilla gets better. I continue to fritter my days away, minding my own business in my room. I dream of having a job that pays well that I enjoy, working on the internet. After several bad bosses in the restaurant industry, I simply cannot deal with that whole thing again. I have a degree, for all that's worth. A bachelor's degree in sociology doesn't lead to a princely living, especially when you are in debt to the tune of over $150,000. Taking out student loans to pay for out-of-state tuition for graduate school wasn't one of my better ideas. Dealing with the “real world” terrified me, so I hid in a world of academic tedium paid for with loans.
- <Dadzilla, Anger Management> <cont'd in future post>