just sometimes.

Do you ever have one of those days where you wish the little decisions of daily life could be made for you?? Looking through my closet this morning, I kind of wished the choice of what to wear was already made for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love being able to choose what I wear to work as opposed to having to wear a uniform day in and out. I take pride in what I wear and how I present myself. Nothing beats kitten heels and a black pencil skirt…

Today, there was no urge to rock the awesome.

I’m barely in the office this week, due to mom starting her chemotherapy treatments tomorrow. Most of my time off this year will be going to helping my mom out. As much as vacation is needed, it shall wait.

I wish I could shake this sick feeling in my stomach, the feeling I’ve had for days. I know that in the end everything will be fine and dandy but the road to that point makes me a little upset. The more research you do has the ability to put you more at ease or increase your worry by ten fold. Some are barely affected by treatment and others hospital ridden after. Tomorrow we will get the first insight of how the next 6 months will be like. I hate the unknown.

We’re set to be at the hospital for 4 hours tomorrow afternoon, which 2 hours will be mom connected to an IV pumping her with a cocktail of treatment drugs.

Bought a new book to read while we sit there…

'This is how wars are fought now: by children, traumatized, hopped-up on drugs and wielding AK-47s. Children have become the soldiers of choice. In the more than fifty conflicts going on worldwide, it is estimated that there are some 300,000 child soldiers. Ishmael Beah used to be one of them.

What does war look like through the eyes of a child soldier? How does one become a killer? How does one stop? Child soldiers have been profiled by journalists, and novelists have struggled to imagine their lives. But it is rare to find a first-person account from someone who endured this hell and survived.

In A LONG WAY GONE: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier, Beah, now twenty-six years old, tells a powerfully gripping story: At the age of twelve, he fled attacking rebels and wandered a land rendered unrecognizable by violence. By thirteen, he’d been picked up by the government army, and Beah, at heart a gentle boy, found that he was capable of truly terrible acts. At sixteen, he was removed from fighting by UNICEF, and through the help of the staff at his rehabilitation center, he learned how to forgive himself, to regain his humanity, and, finally, to heal.

This is an extraordinary and mesmerizing account, told with real literary force and heartbreaking honesty.'

I’ll let you know how it is when I finish.

Should probably attempt to focus on doing some work for a bit....