Confusion

The financial advisor talked to Mary today while I was out of the room to see what she said about her will without me present. At first she said I should get everything, then she went through several combinations till she ended up with me getting everything again. I think she’s afraid the family will find out and then not treat her the same. At least she seemed adamant about my getting the house. Although I sort of feel the same way about the house as I do about her car and the cat—they aren’t mine, I didn’t choose them. Does that sound awful? Well, I must admit that I feel a bit…deflated. And disappointed. I was just thinking that she doesn’t owe me anything. But doesn’t she? Sure, she didn’t ask me to come take care of her, but I can’t be true to my principles and not take care of her. And yet she is really asking a lot of me. I’ve given her five years already. Not completely but at least partly, and free room and board just doesn’t equal that. I don’t know, does it even equal a house? As long as I’m taking care of her, my life is in limbo to a certain extent. Well, I’m really tired of talking and thinking about this. I don’t want to think so much about when Mary dies. But I do need to get her to take care of her funeral arrangements. I know that’s hard, but all of us are mortal and we can’t avoid it forever. I guess 94 years is long enough to have avoided it.

I tried to apply for the Immigration Information Officer position, but, wouldn’t you know it, the deadline is tomorrow and their website to apply is down. I sent them an email expressing my interest and telling them that my resume was on the website if they wanted to see it. I’ve never heard anything from the Public Library. I haven’t further pursued the MAT thing yet. It was odd when I considered that I might be inheriting a place to live and some money. I suddenly thought, here I have the chance to do what I want to do. Not what I thought would get me a job for sure and earn me money. Teaching was what I thought about. When I look up jobs on the Internet, my eyes always go immediately to teaching and education. But the theory is so different from the practice. I wish I knew that I loved kids and loved schools. Actually, the smell of schools kind of makes me feel ill.

Mary has an itching on her right armpit. I put some medicine for a yeast infection (right term? She gets them under her boobs where her waist creases and I guess sweat pools.), but that didn’t seem to help. She just keeps saying that she thinks she needs to wash her underarms. Well, now I’ve tried some Cortisone. Hope that helps.