June 4, 2017

The day my mother passed after fighting non-Hodgkins lymphoma for about two years. She was in remission but it came back. The car accident she was in the winter didn’t help, it made her weaker. I’m not here to give the full story, I probably did already. Im here to talk about how much has changed since.

Imagine if she was diagnosed with it during a pandemic, her chances to survive could have been less. Who cares. That’s all I’m saying about that.

I was going to get married. My mother knew in her heart she wouldn’t live longer than 3 months to be there. She didn’t even discuss it with me. I had a feeling she wouldn’t. I regretted showing her my dress and not putting it on for her. She was buried in the dress she was going to wear to my wedding. I had to live with that forever on top of some drama I called her about when she was in the hospital.

There I was again, refusing to commit and trying to have fun when hell was around me. I was about to get marry and I was having sex with some strange man I hardly know in the woods. It was supposed to distract me from sleeping with my ‘guy friend’ but it didn’t. Was I having fun? No. I was trying to distract myself from the truth. My mother is dying. I’m afraid to get married. Boo who.

Then it happened. Instead of me getting better, I got worse. I locked away all my emotions. I got married though I wasn’t feeling like it. Things got sour and I stumbled upon someone new. Not just new, he was going to be my future supervisor. I didn’t know it. I denied any attraction I had towards him until one day. We made out in an empty lot. It was intense and different from anything I’ve felt in a long time. We began hooking up. We accidentally said those three words.

He left. I realized he was right that I never dealt with my mother’s death. I stopped fucking around. I became a mother… now I understand.

Last day of work

My boss decided to keep maintenance because they’re ‘essential’ and have work to do. Despite there being an EXECUTIVE ORDER to shut it down completely. She said, “Maybe you can get unemployment.” HAHA. Yeah, tell me how that’s going for you and your men now? They’re 100% gone.

Then there was my favorite person, my ‘supervisor’ passive aggressive towards me because I told my sister (I work with) everything that’s going on. Does he know that per say? Yeah probably she wasn’t working that day I had to play messenger for my boss. Maybe his girlfriend wasn’t pleasing him again that day, who knows. Oh, I do because every time there’s an issue between them he makes passes at me and texts me asking for pictures? (LOL, I do/did work at the least professional place.) She doesn’t have a clue. I’m just glad I got away from that toxic bullshit.

I published a book

“Hippie Girl” is based on real events from my life. It’s fictionalized for legal and storytelling reasons.

‘Oh, you’re trying to cover you ass?’ Maybe. I mean, I still work at the place all the chaos and illegal shit went down. I recall asking a few people in the story of it was okay I’d use them such as my sister, husband, and mother. All the names have been changed too.

‘Why?’ To respect people’s privacy, legal reasons, and we don’t need the assholes to know I definitely wrote about them!

‘So then, what is it about?’ You have to read it to find out, haha. If you’ve been here awhile you have an idea. All my work together could create a version of this fucked up story.

But basically… this girl, Lila finds herself constantly in weird situations with guys. Her mother’s death definitely didn’t help any. It’s like she replaced one problem for another! Eventually, shit happens and she has to leave all of that behind.

‘Is Lila you?’ Yes and no. Yes, she goes through some shit I did. And no, that’s not my name and she’s a ‘fictional’ character.

‘What does your husband think?’ He wants to read it but I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. We talked about it’s context last night. He seemed to have forgot I had a threesome.

‘Why I didn’t publish it under my marital name?’ Well, for the fact I want to have my private life, private and I’m the only Sandra in this world I know of work that last name. I doubt I’ll ever be that big. But either way, I don’t want to be found! Whereas my maiden name, good luck! I also had this conversation with my mother before she passed and my husband before we married. My mother said, ’it’s your name, do what you want’.

‘What are you doing next?’ Honestly, I don’t know. If you want my honest opinion this story isn’t going to be successful. That’s okay, I knew that. It’s an odd story. Nobody knows who I am. It’s probably not that great. I didn’t even want to write it but it was a monkey on my back. Now the air is clear I can focus on things I actually want to write. It’s not about money. Nobody is paying me shit expect my employer!
 

Twin flame

His sun was my moon
my moon was opposite of his
his blue eyes stared
in the pits of my green
he could do push-ups on me
I could knee him in the nuts

He snorted coked
I was high a couple times
He drank at work
I kept my mouth shut
he was also my supervisor

He called me ‘hippie girl’
said he loved me and wanted
to run away with me
I never said those words
I thought he wasn’t serious
then he got arrested
quit and ran from the cops
without me

My life went on
without him
I had a baby in July 2019
a year after we were
high and drunk at a party
and he said he was
falling in love with me

No, it’s not his
No, I didn’t name
my daughter after him
but time to time I think
how could someone be
insane like him?

Last July

He wasn’t around much
you were
I saw fireworks with him
but felt none
at a boring baseball game

you worked during
the fireworks we had at work
I stood around and waited
for you to finish
to say ‘goodbye’

You said you’d make it up
to me and you did
we got a hotel room
we hooked up after work

There was a party
I agreed to meet you there
I was stoned and drunk
you were just drunk
I let you drive my car
we did it under the stars
at a church
and you told me you loved me

I questioned it
when I was sober
you said you
wouldn’t take it back
I avoided any other
conversation about it
it wasn’t what we agreed upon
we were only having fun
both of us had someone

Did he stop trying, no
did he stop drinking, no
he blacked out at work
drinking on the job

Everyone thought
I was being too nice to him
when really I didn’t know the way out
he was one of my bosses
I could only pull away so much
and not say those words

Summer ended

Fall came
and we was behind bars for a DWI

Yet he still told me
you’re the hippie girl
I fell in love with
I meant what I said
I know in your heart
you want to be a mother
you’ll be good

 

No, it’s not his

“Do what you want with your name”

she said in the last conversation I had with her before she passed. She didn’t tell me whether or not I should filter the truth. Should I fictionize it completely to protect my ass? Obviously I need to change names but also the workplace? But he never made us sign a form stating we can’t share information about what goes on nor our experiences. Even if he did, do you know how many malls there are in the world? You can’t prove it’s yours.

Of course I wrote a 50 page draft in a fictional restaurant and characters that didn’t feel real. I lost interest in it and haven’t seen it in about 2 years now. The only writing I’ve done has been on my blog. For a while I thought it was to get revenge on an ex supervisor that treated us like shit or to expose how fucked I am — but it wasn’t. It was to expose what really happened behind the scenes. Something anyone can relate too whether they work some shitty minimum wage job, decent, or fancy one.

Sex in the workplace, workers that go off for hours during their shift no one notices, drug dealing, smoking marijuana or doing other drugs at work, drinking, etc.

So what happened to that story? It didn’t have a plot. People kept doing shit for no reason at all. How many times can you watch a character fuck up and get annoyed over the same repetive shit? Probably until the end he finally gets arrested for a DWI. Then it gets boring and life goes on. His love interest ends up pregnant by her husband. It sounds more like some lifetime shit and less like the interesting SCI FI stories I had old men operating on someone’s brain.

So I’m left with the question, what is a story worth telling?