Dear God,
I’ve been staying at my parents’ house ever since I flew in on Tuesday. Today I found out that I’ve been taken off all flights for the rest of this month and next month. Surprisingly, I don’t feel bad about it—I think I just need a break from everything that’s been going wrong.
I went to babysit Anabel for two hours. It took me an hour and twenty minutes to drive there. My replacement—Annie’s new nanny—is super tall and really sweet. She was wearing a short tank top, blue jeans, and loafer-style shoes.
When I greeted Annie, the bathwater was yellow and brown. She had urinated and had diarrhea in the tub—it was a lot, not just a little. “Welcome back,” I thought to myself. Her mom confirmed it too, through the new nanny, when she called to approve my request for gloves. I got Annie cleaned up, dressed for bed, and fed. She’s definitely gained weight—she looks bigger than me now. Two or three of my legs combined, could probably equal one of hers. If Annie could stand, she would tower over me. Yet she still crawls like a baby and uses a wheelchair during the day. I truly love Annie, although, she had no reaction to my return.
Kirby is still Kirby. The first thing she mentioned was needing a picture or something to show me and Annie’s reunion. I know what she really meant—she was wondering if Annie would even recognize me. Honestly, no. Annie looked at me like she had just seen me yesterday. No reaction at all to the time apart… probably because when she first saw me, she was in the middle of pooping in the bathtub.
I woke up after about seven hours of sleep. Ever since I’ve been staying in hotels, I’ve learned how to adapt to sleeping in different places. That—and knowing rats and mice have been in my apartment. After I prayed not to see or hear any rats or mice, all I’ve found since then is what feels like thousands of droppings everywhere and one dead rat and one dead mouse.
I’m not feeling well right now. I have a headache, an upset stomach, and a runny nose. I took a Tylenol, hoping it helps. Honestly, I think I’m just stressed, Lord. I want to truly lay all my worries on You, but even when I sleep, I feel like I’m still dreaming about everything.
Hours have passed….It’s now 11:30 a.m., and I just woke up. I went to sleep around 11 p.m. and had to get up at least three times during the night because I felt sick—but overall, I slept about 12 hours. I feel so much better now.
One thing I’ve noticed since sleeping here is that I’ve developed bags under my eyes. I looked it up and realized I probably need dust-mite-proof pillowcases. I’m planning to buy some from Amazon soon.
I just heard my mom flush the toilet. I might’ve left him a little surprise in there. Mom is doing everything she can to wake me up—dad also left a sweet letter under my door, and now I hear him rummaging through the kitchen. I can tell Pop wants to talk, but I don’t want to wake my mom. I know he’ll start talking loudly, and that will wake her up. And since I’m in the guest room, if I step out, he’ll immediately know I’m awake. I’m trying to protect her sleep.
Right now, I’m lying in the guest room at my parents’ house. I feel relaxed, even though I need to use the bathroom again. I think I’ll go—my dad sounds excited to talk to me.
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