Sometimes, I hate me.

My mom has to get an MRI scan done next month.
I'm not sure what, exactly, they're looking for, but not finding it confirms Alzheimer's.
I don't know if I'm spelling anything correctly, because I'm sitting outside with my puppies, watching them chew on a stick.
It's amazing how they each have distinct personalities.
They're like furry little people.
I wish I could take one of them to UNO.

(I know I'm straying from the original topic.
It's an attempt to stop crying before I even start.
It's not working.)

When I was fourteen, I told my Granny that I don't want scientist to find a cure for cancer. I'm not donating money to boobs. I'm not walk of diming.
Because without all of these medical conditions, the world will become overpopulated to the point of starvation and the end of the human race.
And I've always thought that tornadoes and hurricanes and tsunamis are the Earth's way of culling the crowd, of helping us do what our morals will not allow us to do.
And my Granny said that if my mother ever developed a brain tumor, I'd feel differently.
"No, I won't. I'll feel very sad, because I love my mom. But everything happens for a reason. We aren't meant to never be sick, and we all have to die."

I still feel that way.
What's more is that I feel like this is divine wrath, striking down on me because I tempted fate in the car with my grandmother four years ago.

I want my mother to have the best possible care.
I want her to smile every day.
And I can't ensure that she will if I'm in New Orleans.
But if I don't get an education, I won't be able to provide for her. And if I stay in Texas, I'll go straight into the job market, and won't bother with an education.
So I have to go to New Orleans.

(That's a cop-out, isn't it?
Be honest. You think I want to go so that I won't watch my mother turn into a shell of a person.)

My mom is so bright.
She just so intelligent and helpful and wonderful.
And now I'm realy crying, because there are women in the world who mollest their children, who kill innocent people, who do such terrible things.
My mom did drugs when she was younger.
But she did the right thing and checked herself into rehab, settled down with kids, and got her life on track.
She did all the right things, you know?
And she always took care of her kids. Even when she should have kicked Billy out and told him to grow up, she didn't, because she loves us too much.
She always done her best. Not everyone does.
But she's the one that has to pay.

It's not fair. Nothing is fair.
I feel like all the hope has been drained out of me.
I'm to emotional for this shit.
I'll see you in the morning.