After years, months and Sundays of procrastinating, I finally went to get a passport. No, I don’t have an international flight on deck (yet), but it will be nice to be ready when the time comes. I never knew how sexist and/or racist the process could be. My passport photos that I politely paid $15 at Walgreen’s were rejected because my shoulders were showing. Really, America? So, I had to pay an additional $10 for new photos and listen to the agents debate about my hair in the pic. (It’s wild, big and natural.) Later, she explained to me that they (America) have been rejecting some natural hair girlies because “their hair was blocking their face”. Luckily, she gave me the green light and proceeded with my application.
Right now, I am home for Christmas break and it feels glorious to read, watch TV, watch endless episodes of Law and Order: SVU. My house is clean, the laundry is almost complete and my shopping list is finished. Dinner is cooked and the dishes are washed. God is good.
School has started and I am exhausted.
I wish I would have kept up with my walking and practicing my sign language.
I was up to 9 miles a week and I was teaching my hubbie sign.
Now I collapse on the couch with my eyes rolled backwards and today I practiced the alphabet.
Two steps forward and one step back.
Still waiting for my husband to go back to work. The spirit of unemployment is alive and well in this house. The savings account dwindles by the week. I’ve already decided which bills I’m not going to pay.
I’m having visions about exploring a new career field, but don’t feel secure about it because of my husband’s instability? Logic tells me to shut the fuck up and be grateful I have a job with benefits. Ethos tell me to spread my wings and to shoot for the stars.
Staying positive while broke is turning into some type of mental gymnastics. I throw myself at work while ignoring the countless bill calls and account alerts. In the back of my mind, I feel the thoughts creeping forward. I crush those thoughts and try to be optimistic, but it is hard. Right now, my gas tank is on E and my spiritual tank is 3/4 full.
I am alive and healthy. I have a loving husband who adores me. A family who supports me and likes having me around. A couple of kooky friends. A job that provides me with benefits and time off during holidays. Life could be worse. But it could be better.
Gratefulness. Patience. Understanding. I repeat these words to myself because I need to remind myself what I am lacking.
I have to be at the hospital at 5am to remove two fibroids from my uterus.
Cost: $1400 out of pocket and that’s with insurance. My district’s insurance plan blows elephant dick. I am hoping that this will relieve some of my heavy bleeding, fatigue and give me the opportunity to wear white jeans before Labor Day.
Yesterday was a bad day. I am worried about money and my husband has been laid off for a couple weeks already. I know that he is trying the best that he can, but my anxiety is rising by the day. I am super nervous about being on anesthesia and I am on my period, so life sucks at the moment.
Usually, I am a ball of sunshine and nonchalance, but I feel like there is a storm cloud over my head. Hopefully, the storm will pass soon so I can have a picnic.
As a teacher, I instruct students how to read and analyze texts while challenging their thoughts, ideas and beliefs through discussion, projects and media. Shaping a young mind is important. As the school year passes, I wonder if I did a good job. Was I fair to everybody? Was I good role model? Should I revise a lesson?
Good teachers care and constantly want to grow. But there is one feeling that cannot be described: hearing that piercing bell on the last day of school and watching students run down the hallway. This year, I raised my hands to God and gave Him thanks because it is stressful, exhausting and draining to be a hand in someone’s education while juggling conferences, overdue bathroom breaks and the endless of fuckery of the state.
As I watched the children run to their fabulous cruises, adventurous road trips and late night facetime conversations, I visualized my childfree summer of book reading, wine sipping and bingewatching Criminal Minds. I always knew I would be childless and I am okay with it. I truly enjoy my life as it is now. I don’t feel ’empty’ or ‘incomplete’. My husband and I are a family because I can choose my definition of a family.
As an intersectional feminist, I support all women’s decisions for their own lives. After all, you are the one taking residency in your body. I wish society can understand that children aren’t a requirement for a woman especially if she’s black, married and young. Children are a blessing to those who treat them as such. But I believe blessings can be in many forms like coming home to a quiet house after a long day’s work, being able to travel at a moment’s notice and not having to live up to the impossible standards of being a supermom.
On Sunday, I uninstalled the ‘gram from my phone. The pastor preached about fasting and how if something consumes all your time and energy that it becomes your god. I agreed with that 100% and knew what I had to do as soon as I got to my car. Like most people, I have a love-hate relationship with social media. I love the makeup tutorials, but hate the arguments in the comments. Had a MySpace, but I completely refuse to get a Facebook profile. Last summer, I decided to get on Instagram.
I waste a lot of time on Insta. I’ve noticed that I haven’t been reading, studying, completing my house projects or working on my charity work, but I had plenty of time to scroll my timeline. Now, I am not bashing Instagram or social media. I learned how to color correct my undereye bags and found some bad-ass restaurants because of the ‘gram. I just noticed it was becoming a black hole of time for me. In a way, it was my god.
Today is Day 3 for me and I admit that I pick up my phone and look for that icon, but then I remember why I uninstalled it. So, here’s to finished novels, blessing bags for the homeless, organized bathroom shelves and learning sign language. Here’s to freedom.
Hey, I am still broke as fuck! But I am sticking to my goal on paper and have been saving wonderfully. It is slow process and it takes responsibility (which is something I lack in life). I am happy to say that I am on track with saving for Miami and my savings account. I hope to keep up the good work. Now, if only someone gave me a gold star….
South Beach will be my life in ten days.
I have 4 1/2 days until school is out for summer.
I spend my work days making lists of shit I want to do, make, buy or visit. My students pretend to read the book that I have no interest in teaching or discussing. Today, I bought ash gray platform heels to go with my black jumpsuit. The price was phenomenal: $11.90. I couldn’t pass it up. So, I just wait and wait and wait…
Isn’t that what life is made of? Waiting for the good days to come while wishing the bad ones go away…
Spring Broke is just about over. It started out with a bang last Saturday. Did a 1-stop BBQ tour stop at a church’s barbecue stop and ended up at the Golden Nugget by nightfall. How did that happen? Didn’t win a single dime. The most I ever won was $370 and I hauled ass after that because I knew that wouldn’t have lasted long if I stayed.
I love casinos, not necessarily gambling. Casinos bring out the best-dressed yet worst-behaved people. The restaurants are usually awesome, the pool is usually fun and the bars have good drinks. After the casino was the 2 hour ride back to Houston, eyes were heavy and the day had defeated us.
After the bang, it has been quiet all week. I’ve been in the house chilling, watching TV, and taking naps which is cool. I’m sitting still because I need to watch my pocketbook. Miami is in June and I put myself on a…budget. I used to avoid that word. It sounds so limited, so drastic, so adult. The reality is that I’m spending too much and not saving enough. I have too much debt and not enough income. My credit score fucking sucks and I pay too much interest in the credit cards, car notes and other host of shit that I am financing.
It took a lot to type those last sentences. Usually, those are thoughts I push back in my head and ignore and pretend that it’s not that bad. So, I read a quote by Erykah Badu that said, “Write it down and watch shit get real.” Or something to that effect. I wrote down the current balance to my savings account and came up with a weekly (husband gets paid weekly) and month plan until April 15th). I am saving 10% of every paycheck and writing it down as a bill. Usually, I save whatever’s left (or nothing at all) which is nowhere near 10%.
Also, I am going to stop my husband from eating money up. He works a shift schedule and doesn’t like to pack a lunch, so he’ll go to Subway, Popeyes and other shitty fast food restaurants that are incredibly gross and cost too much. I’m a fat girl and I hate fast food. If I have to eat it because I didn’t pack a lunch, I am pissed. I digress…he spends anyway from $40-$100 on lunch, late night snacks, etc.
Instead, I’m going to pack his lunch for him. (What a nice wife.) Sit my ass down instead of wandering the mall. Stick to my plan on paper and pray for patience, understanding and guidance.
I just want the simple things
I want you
I want my husband to be safe and secure in who he is and where he is in life. I know that he tries so hard to be the best him that he can be. Unresolved issues in his life has caused him to be insecure, incomplete and not enough for others. I believe that he is whole and complete. I want him to know that I love him with all my soul, not my heart. My heart will stop eventually, but my soul will live on.
I want my brother to come home from prison. 22 years is much too long. So much life has been lived in five years. People have been born and died in the time that he has gone. He has made some fucked up decisions and I wish I was aware on how bad they were. Maybe I could have did something to change his mind. I hate the justice system because they hang the petty thieves while the killers run free. Fucking America.
I want a true female friend. I want the type of friendship where we can see each other without makeup on a random Tuesday night while eating Chinese food. It would be cool to go on road trips and reminisce on embarrassing moments. I have friends, but it’s like they are phone friends and they live in the same city. Which really sucks. Maybe it’s me and I am not a good friend.
Instead of wanting, I need to realize that I have.
I have a husband who is funny, hardworking and a deep thinker.
I have an intelligent brother who loves to read the Bible.
I have 2 sisters who I love to hang out with.
for the 4th time.
What can I say? I can’t turn down a getaway. It’s gonna be lit bc my friend is coming along with my sisters and my mama. So, it’s like 8 of us going. Which is really cool because it’s last minute and it kinda worked out. Which is great because shit never really works out with us. We have issues getting together for dinner on a weekday. I am really excited to hang out with my friend who has never been to Vegas or a plane. It’s really cool because I have the travel bug and I just want to go everywhere.
March- New Braunfels/BBQ Tour in Hill Country
April-??? (Sit my ass down and save money)
May-:( 😦 :(Try to hustle some money to move into a new place
Hopefully, everything works out. Hopefully, I can be an adult and save for trips.