Time

May 7th, 2012

Fuck me. I can't sleep. I have been up since 4:30 AM. Why am I typing this now. I don't know, frustrated I suppose. I have to be up soon and I just wish I could sleep another hour. It's so quite here. THe only sound is a ticking clock that I tired to use to count the minutes away. It just became more depressing then helping me sleep.

My only distraction is this urge to pee but I'm too lazy to get up so I just deal with the urge for now. The dawn will start to creep in my windows soon and I dread a new day. Nico and Christopher are sound asleep  beside me, It must be nice to sleep. I hope they are having wonderful dreams away from the nightmare of reality.

Nico is wrapped up in my right arm. I'm typing this with my left thumb. They're doing well oblivious to the reality of my concerns and fears. Probably the reason why I can't sleep right this second. Money is tight and child care search sucks. I question my ability to let them go and return to work. I miss them already thinking about not being a stay at home dad. But I know that's just not feasible. To think that I have to trust someone to help me raise them while I am away at work is nerve wracking. She will never be able to love them as much as I do or as much as my wife did. This nanny search blows.

There is so much to deal with I wish I could just get lost in time but time waits for no one and its hands press forward making me incapable of getting lost in its minutes and seconds. All I can do is count it down until I must face another day of uncertainty. I'm just rambling here.

My concerns weigh heavily on my mind. I need to organize myself. Get a plan going. Easier said then done. Bills need to be paid. Money conserved. Child care found. A modified work schedule established. Summer time is coming up. I need to call the bank. I have to complete an online course by today in order to continue teaching at the police academy. Can time slow down?

Well I'm not reading this nor checking for mistakes. It is what it is. I wanna try and at least rest for my last hour before I must get up. My time is running out.


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Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

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