October 9, 2014,
Less than three hours after I wrote that day's blog, my dad informed me he has stage 4 lung cancer. It has already spread from his lung to his pelvic bone.
He doesn't want me to come home and see him this way.
My brother is telling me to come home NOW.
That Friday, October 10, I told my bosses about my dad's condition. My bosses at work however, tell me that even though my dad is dying, they can't spare me until after November 10. (Something like 30 days.) By then dad will be on his second cancer treatment and probably won't recognize me anymore, if he's still alive that is. Thanks work.
Yesterday, those two little "princesses" almost got broken faces. For the next 28 days I want to make it very clear, at work, if you're some ego ridden high maintenance, bullshit little entitled bitch, in plain poetic verse, I couldn't give a fuck about you. I don't give a fuck. Not one fuck. Not to that fuck over there. Or those two fucks there. Or you whiny little bitch fucks over there. All you fucks, I couldn't care less. Fire me? Knock yourself out. Maybe then I'll actually get to see my dad before he dies.
Fact, I'm going.
Consider me gone.
My dad's ex-wife, a human wrecking ball, a real piece of work, and my brothers mom, thinks it's funny that my dad is dying of cancer. She thinks it's comical he quit smoking, she kept smoking, and he's the one dying of lung cancer. I should have committed that crazy bitch when I had the chance.
Fathers can break their daughters hearts in such a unique terrible way, it makes other people jealous.
To quote, well, everyone, "Adios motherfuckers." My dad is more important than you.
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