Today, I’m sad. Like, eat a box of Drumsticks sad. My Uncle R died yesterday from cancer. He was, much like my stepfather, a wonderful man who put up with a lot and earned a high place in the next life. He was married to my favorite aunt who, like my mother, had a seriously addictive personality. With my mom, it was alcohol before she got “sober” and started taking prescription pain meds. My aunt just stayed with alcohol, to the point where she once drank herself into a coma and had to learn to talk properly again. She also refused to marry my uncle in favor of running off with a gentleman my grandmother very progressively referred to as “that negro.”
Through everything, my stepfather and uncle stayed with these completely unhealthy women. My stepfather died. My uncle managed to drag my aunt back from her madness and they eventually got married for real. She’s been sober and happy ever since, which makes me happy because she’s one of the only two people on that side of the family who has never judged me because of my lack of religion, my ink and piercings, or my sexual preferences. As is par for the course in our family, the other person – my Uncle J – committed suicide. We have excellent mental health in my family, we do!
I’m going to miss my uncle a lot, and I’m sad that he won’t be able to be at my wedding because I think he really would have liked Mister E. In fact, I think he did like him by description back then, though he never met him. More than anything I wish I could get up to my hometown for the funeral, but with only one car and limited funds it’s not going to happen. I hope his soul will be satisfied with the prayers I’ll offer, and that I’ll meet him again one day.
Also causing me to ice cream myself into a coma is the fact that I didn’t get the job. They were supposed to call either Friday or Monday, and you may note that it is Tuesday evening and I’m still stuck listening to Queen Bully Bitch brag about how she caught a hammerhead shark this weekend at the coast and went to Krav Maga 5 times this weekend so she could roll around on the floor with her trainer. I thought I really had a chance at this position, you know? I guess I’m just meant to be miserable this week. Mister E says it’s because I non-ironically invoked Godwin’s Law last week.
Going to bed now with a bottle of vodka and a pint of honey. Yes, the Drumsticks are gone. You were too late.