First Post

I've often heard that Sunday is a day of rest.
I really wish that that was true for me.
I can't remember the last time I  'rested.'

Before I get too much further into the 'woe is me' stuff, I should introduce myself. I doubt anyone else will read this, but I need a place to put my thoughts down. And since I'm stuck on main street with no where to go because of an accident, this seems like an alright time. Who knows, I may need to know my name in the future. I'm practical like that.

My name is Alex Lund. I'm seventeen, though I often feel way older. Not many other kids my age have the sort of responsibilities I've had to take on in the past couple of years, and without my gifts, I doubt I would have survived as long as I have.
You see, my mom's been in the hospital for the past couple of years. She's undergone every test man has come up with, and still the doctors don't know what's wrong with her.
It's just her and me. It has been for a while. My dad left...when I was younger. I barely remember him. He's gone off the gird. We've looked, but there's no trace of him.
And with my mom unable to work, with her bedridden more often then not in the hospital, it's up to me to pay the bills. Our insurance stopped covering us a long time ago.
Unfortunately, there are few high paying jobs I can get when I haven't even graduated high school yet. There are even fewer who are willing to look the other way when it comes to how many hours I work.
So I ended up at Joe's Pizza Shack. It's a local delivery place that's popular four cities away. Their unique blend of cheese, sauce, and ham slices has been rated number one for the past ten years. Or so they tell me, I've grown rather tired of it all. The taste, the smell. If I never had to see another pizza for the rest of my life it would be too soon.
That's why I'm stuck in traffic now. I'm working. Delivering pizza. And unfortunately, this delivery is going to cut into my paycheck.
Joe has a policy that we get the pizza to you within 20 minutes or it's free. If his drivers don't get the delivery done in time, the cost of the pizza is deducted from our paycheck. Needless to say, with money on the line, his drivers drive as fast as they can without getting caught by the cops.
It's been 35 minutes now. Which means I'll have to work a couple hour longer tonight to get that lost money back.
It's probably not the best thing to do. Not on the night before the first day of school. But I need the money, mom's next hospital bill is going to come by the end of the week, and I need the cash to pay it.
Of course, she would insist that I get a good night's rest. That I focus on my schoolwork. That I don't worry about a job. She doesn't know though. Doesn't know I had to sell our house, doesn't know that the insurance isn't covering us anymore. I hope she never finds out actually. She would totally flip if she saw how many hours I really worked in order to pay the bills.
So tomorrow, I have to cut back on my hours. Make time for school. For homework. Because that's what my mom wants. She wants me to get good grades. She wants me to get into one of the top universities in the state.
With all the downers that have happened to her, I can't give her another one. That I don't think I'll be able to go to a university until after she's better, after all the bills are paid off. No, I want her to be happy.

And in order for her to be happy...and pay the bills;
I'm not going to get a 'day of rest' anytime soon.

(Alex)