8.31

I talked to my dad today. I don't talk that guy nearly as much as I should; but every time I do talk to him, I always wonder why I don't call him more often. He's a good man, my father. He's a great man. Probably the best man I've ever known (and I'm saying that as objectively as I can). I really can't think of another man who holds a candle next to my father, save for maybe Pastor Tom. He's honest, funny, kind, insightful, industrious, loves God... He's the man I hope to be. The man I hope I'm becoming.

Whenever I need help or advice, he's always the first person I go to. Always. And, usually, he's the last person I go to because after talking to him and hearing what he has to say about whatever situation I find myself in, I don't need to hear what anyone else has to say. Today was no exception.

I love that he doesn't think I'm crazy like a lot of other people probably do. Lately that's been my biggest concern—making sure people don't think I'm completely insane. It's not that I have an image to maintain or anything, it's just that if people start thinking I'm crazy, I'll start thinking I'm crazy too. Sometimes it feels like I am.

I told him all about the bizarre circumstances that have been surrounding my life lately and he was very understanding of it all. I was mostly concerned about the demon-in-the-house issue, but the first thing he said was, "Well, this is all familiar territory for you." As upset as that made me (because it's true), it was very comforting and validating. He acknowledged that this is something that I've been struggling with my whole life and he offered me some solid advice: "You need to get the hell out of there!" So true. He also thinks I should figure out a way to move to Chicago.

I found one opportunity up there at a coffee shop called Peets Coffee and Tea. Knowing my luck, I probably won't even get a call back; but like Dad said, what's the hurt in trying? And, of course, as soon as I found out about that position, I learned of an opening here in Bourbonnais that's full-time and pays $13/hr. Dad advised I should go for that one too. Again, "it never hurts to try." In the event that I got both positions offered to me, he said, "Well. Then do whatever the hell you want."

Solid advice.

I'm really glad I don't have to live up to my dad's expectations of me, like other people I've known. He just wants me to succeed—not wildly, but so much that I'm not homeless. My mother, on the other hand... If I don't end up a millionaire, she's sure to resent me.

I just want to be happy.