Where we were going to be in 10 years-- an update.
I used to have bad insomnia, and lately it has been revisiting me. It's not as bad as it was before-- I used to be up for days at a time, and then when I fell asleep I could never wake up to the sound of an alarm. I've just been lying awake for a long time at night, and it's probably just because I sleep too late during the day. TH gets home from work at 12:30, and then we sit around and he unwinds until at least 2:00. He gets up for work at 9:30, and sometimes I get up with him, but sometimes I stay in bed longer. I should really stop staying up with him and sleeping late, but I like to see him when he gets home. That's when he's his most talkative, usually. I get to hear all the stories of the crap that's happened in the ER that night. He doesn't work in the ER, but he sees all the diagnoses on a computer screen that tells him what drugs to make. There are more knife and gunshot wounds happening in Hattiesburg, Mississippi than the local media lets on. Way more.
Last night while I was lying in bed not sleeping, I decided to call my friend SD, who works at night. She's a friend from way back. We grew up on the same road and spent every waking minute together being tomboys until a little thing called puberty came along and wrecked our plans to build the world's most gigantic treehouse. (Actually, we did get part of one built, but it became a place for people to smoke pot and make out instead of the innocent wonderland we'd had in mind while building it.) Anyway, SD told me she has been getting phone calls from a guy who used to come to our town every summer from Alaska. His grandmother lived down the road from us, and he spent several weeks with her every year. He was my first ever boyfriend. We kissed. We even had a wedding ceremony on his grandmother's porch when we were kids. SD was the preacher. He was my first crush. Then he grew up and spent seven years smoking crack and hopping trains. That was the update. He's in recovery now, in a halfway house in Alaska, running up long distance bills to call his childhood friends in Mississippi.
SD had more updates on childhood friends. Our other friend, DT, has been in a downward spiral since...well...since she was 12. (That's what self-absorbed parents produce.) Now she's doing meth and making porns.
As we got older we used to wonder out loud what would become of each of us. We tried to make predictions about where each person would be in ten years. SD was most likely to stay in the neighborhood. She did for a long time, and only left when she had no other choice. SH, another friend, was most likely to do something productive and have a good career. She's a nurse now. My sister was most likely to have kids. She does. I was most likely to leave town, and I did as soon as I turned 18. We laughingly joked that DT would be most likely to get pregnant or become a porn star. She got pregnant during her senior year of high school, and now has apparently fulfilled the latter prophecy.
I thought we were only joking.
Last night while I was lying in bed not sleeping, I decided to call my friend SD, who works at night. She's a friend from way back. We grew up on the same road and spent every waking minute together being tomboys until a little thing called puberty came along and wrecked our plans to build the world's most gigantic treehouse. (Actually, we did get part of one built, but it became a place for people to smoke pot and make out instead of the innocent wonderland we'd had in mind while building it.) Anyway, SD told me she has been getting phone calls from a guy who used to come to our town every summer from Alaska. His grandmother lived down the road from us, and he spent several weeks with her every year. He was my first ever boyfriend. We kissed. We even had a wedding ceremony on his grandmother's porch when we were kids. SD was the preacher. He was my first crush. Then he grew up and spent seven years smoking crack and hopping trains. That was the update. He's in recovery now, in a halfway house in Alaska, running up long distance bills to call his childhood friends in Mississippi.
SD had more updates on childhood friends. Our other friend, DT, has been in a downward spiral since...well...since she was 12. (That's what self-absorbed parents produce.) Now she's doing meth and making porns.
As we got older we used to wonder out loud what would become of each of us. We tried to make predictions about where each person would be in ten years. SD was most likely to stay in the neighborhood. She did for a long time, and only left when she had no other choice. SH, another friend, was most likely to do something productive and have a good career. She's a nurse now. My sister was most likely to have kids. She does. I was most likely to leave town, and I did as soon as I turned 18. We laughingly joked that DT would be most likely to get pregnant or become a porn star. She got pregnant during her senior year of high school, and now has apparently fulfilled the latter prophecy.
I thought we were only joking.
Every Senior class in my high school got their own rendition of an old Statler Brothers's song sung for them at Prom. The song basically says what everyone's doing now, meaning forever in the future. Kind of like a prophecy set to music.
Mine said, "Kristin's on welfare."
Wow. Mrs. E really was psychic. If she'd said, "Kristin married a redneck and drinks a lot to hide the pain" I'd be really impressed.
Posted by
Redneck Diva |
6:37 PM