If I have piles on my office floor does that count as organizing? Everytime I have a really shitty day (which lately has been pretty frequent) I think of Nick's grandfather who came over from Italy on a boat. He rode a bike to work every day which back then was a grocery store and he made .40 cents a day. He worked every single day and made enough money to bring Nick's grandmother and her whole family over. That's her mother, father, and sister, cousin and cousin's family.

He lived in a little house behind his cousins house and rode his bike to court her. When he had enough money, he married her and they lived in a little house near family. He worked in that grocery store for years until he had enough money to buy his own store, which he did. He worked EVERY single day except Sundays. Starting out with .40 cents a day. .40 cents. on a bike. Sometimes she said he would walk to work because he liked to go slow. I look at pictures and hear stories and think of how romantic that was. She didn't need a big fancy ring or a car. She didn't even need a big house. He gave her something no one else ever could and that was a fresh start with her family in America.

He worked in his own liquor store, ran the counter, helped in the bar. He wore a tie and a suit to work everyday. He always said to look your best even if it was selling liquor. People trusted him and knew him. He didn't take shit from anyone and he loved his wife. Till the end. I like to think he still does, all the way from heaven.

He sold his liquor store and when he retired he didn't know what to do with himself. What do you do after 60 years of work? Nick and I took them to Vegas to celebrate their retirement and you know what he said when we got there? That all he wanted to do was lay in his hotel room. That of course did not happen and we drug him out to eat and walk around. While in Vegas with all these great restaurants, where do you think he wanted to eat? At Denny's. We didn't find a Denny's in our hotel, but we tried to give him a nice time.

After a few months into his retirement, he became depressed. I think he was bored. His health started to deteriorate and his kidneys needed help working. Nick and I would travel monthly as much as we could sometimes twice a month to Gallup to visit and help his grandmother out. Nick would drive Papa Chet to dialysis and I would clean the house and help Helen with groceries. Little things people don't think about. Here was a man who never used a computer, ran his cash register with the same register for 25 years. Everything was done by hand and by paper. Started out with .40 cents a day and ended up with more money than he could ever hope for.

For what? For a retirement that people forced upon him? Which led him into a depression and being bored? He didn't go golfing or travel to Hawaii. He went to dialysis and sat at his table visiting with friends and family who stopped by. He watched his wife cook and clean and all the way to the end of his marvelous life, he loved her.

I think about him every time I have a shitty day. Papa Chet probably had a thousand shit days. But he still went to work and he still saved his money. He did what he was supposed to do. He got married, bought a house and lived his life the way he wanted.

I can complain about not winning the lottery, but do I ever buy a ticket? No one is going to organize these piles but me and no one is going to finish that damn degree but me. Every decision I make is mine to keep track of and be responsible for. Even if I do hate it. all the time. which I do.

I think of my husband who works so hard every single day. He has a heart of gold and makes me laugh. We have some shitty things in our life that neither one of us deserve but him the most. He is his grandfather. He takes pride in his job and he almost always never takes a day off unless I force him. He's trying to do what he is supposed to do and that is marry your girl, buy a house, go to work, and love your family. Isn't that the ultimate dream?

So yes, I have piles of shit everywhere, but they are my piles. I guess I should go out and buy that lottery ticket so my complaining can be legit when I don't win. In the end, I don't need a fancy house or car, I just want my bills paid and to sleep in on saturday mornings. To be able to take my husband on a vacation he desperately deserves and needs and for the assholes in our lives to shut their traps and grow up.

you know who you are if you read this.


So for the next 8 months I will probably bitch and cry and stress, but in the end I can only hope it will be for the greater good. Which is my ultimate dream-to pay the bills and take a vacation.