hildeguardog's Diaryland Diary

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Wow, life can get sloppy sometimes.

I have lots on conflicting thoughts on my mind right now. One, in particular, that I'd like to discuss is one involving my father.
Just hours before game one of this years World Series, my dad fell and broke his arm. He was upset at the pain and at the fact that he wouldn't be parked in front of a television with a glass of Pepsi in his hand and a bag of chips on his lap, as he had planned.
Just when his arm was showing improvement, a van backs into him. Now he has one functioning arm(his left arm, which doesn't do much for a man inclined to his right hand) and one functioning leg. If the bills were hard to pay before, then, well, now the difficulty of bringing in money has been increased tenfold("tenfold"-- what a dumb word-choice).
The issue at hand is this: He suggested the idea of me moving in with him and sleeping on an air mattress. I'm not especially thrilled about this idea, but I can't pinpoint my exact reasoning as to why.
Am I afraid of leaving my home and all the comfort I've forced into this place?
or am I selfish and not up for the work it would take to care for someone(regardless of who)?
Am I afraid of a closer relationship with the old man?
I'd like to help him, I really would-- but, well, I don't know. If it were up to me, he'd be retired, but still working for fun, instead of for survival.

5:19 p.m. - Saturday, Nov. 05, 2005

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