Writing and wondering

Been writing a lot the past few days. Freelancing, as much as I've done it now, doesn't compare to the pace of a fulltime job.

It is a living, though, such as it is, and I can't complain. Though I haven't gotten paid yet, which has a bearing on what I'll be doing for Christmas. If I don't get paid soon, I won't be going home to see the kids.

Had a brief reunion with some friends I hadn't seen in years the other day; they were friends from my first job in journalism not too far from Fresno. It was good to see them and hang out and share old times. We may even get together in January sometime.

I haven't talked to the kids much, which is kind of sad. Since the papers arrived, Cherie and I haven't spoken, and I'm probably not going to bring the subject up. There really is no point. It is what it is, I guess.

Would be nice to go and live there, though. Next week, I'm applying for school, so that will be something positive.

For the first time ever, however, I confronted my mom about her problems with alcohol. It was not a pretty sight, as we were at the home of perhaps her best friend when I did this. I yelled at her, and generally acted in a way that does not make me proud in the least to say that I did those things. They needed to be said, yes, but in a kind and gentle way.

Of course, my mom remembered exactly zero part of the conversation when I reminded her, which in itself is a bit scary. Too sloshed to remember your son yelled at you? A part of me wished she would forget, but I didn't want her to. Now, apologizing again has no meaning whatsoever. Still, I was not proud of what I did, even if it was necessary.

So now, we move on. To what, I'm not sure...