Today was the mostly fun trip to the City. Only one bad thing happened. In about Novato, my dad called and told me my grandma died yesterday at noon. I was stunned. If anything, it felt mostly weird. I've never been close with Grandma Jenny, my mom's mom, and she used to smoke, so she had nearly every bad thing smoking for years could cause. She constantly fell down and broke her hip and whatnot, and that poor lady...the only reason her family [except for my Aunt Jenny] stuck around with her was to suck her Social Security out of her. Now my meth-head Aunt Margie is on the streets, her sister won't take her in, but maybe this will actually kick-start something in Margie and her daughter to actually get a job and do something slightly productive with their lives, besides drugs, reproducing, and never graduating from high school. Though I do love my Grandma Jenny and that side of the family, I'm ashamed of them, as I always have been, and I don't like feeling that way. My mom was the only good thing that came out of that side of the family. It disgusts me that that's the way it is.
I don't know when the funeral will be, and I don't know if I'll be able to go, since I'm working 35+ hours a week for the rest of my life.
I don't want Margie to show up on our doorstep. Dad and Diane have always been afraid of that happening. I don't know what to do.
I never got to say good bye.
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