From my mother’s perspective:
All my days feel the same. An endless cycle of the same shit. Work and then home. At work everything gets piled onto me and yet I’m being paid less than Nancy who doesn’t do half of what I do. It’s ridiculous. I come home and unwind, some days it’s a nap other days it’s a shower. Before I even open the door to the house I think to myself “Buddy better not have ripped anything and Machito better not have peed in the house again.” It’s like no one else in this house can pick up after them. Around 5 o’clock I’ll cook dinner for my family. I wonder what day my sister is coming over. She never lets anyone know her plan, what if I’m not home. I told the girls to clean up so when she does come by she won’t see such clutter. I also have to remember to ask my sister if she can take some stuff back to the Dominican Republic when she goes back, I don’t know how I’m gonna time this perfectly so that the stovetop gets there in time before the contractors finish up the kitchen in the new house. I also have to make sure I fly out there and finish up all the paperwork for the new place. I’m so stressed. To top it off I have to deal with the car insurance company because my stupid husband let go of the breaks at a red light. He was probably looking at his phone. How am I paying for two cars, two insurance plans and I’m not even the one using them! He should pay for it himself. He doesn’t pay anything around here, more for me to stress about. And now that he has a second job I think we’ll have to pay for our daughters tuitions and by we I mean me. Every time someone has an issue they pass it on to me. I’m not the one who got into two car accidents yet I’m the one stressed. He barely even leaves here yet I’m dealing with all his bull. My youngest daughter apparently can’t do anything for herself and wants me to talk to customer service for her for some hoodie that didn’t fit her. Like c’mon you’re almost 19. Then I have a 20 year old who all of a sudden feels the need to leave to hangout at 1 in the morning. Now I have to stay up and wait for her to get home. I have to get up for work in a couple of hours.
From my father’s perspective:
Today I have to work from 6AM to 2PM at the Bronx job than I have to be in at 4pm to the Enclave. I should get out at 12pm unless Frank is late or calls in because of his mom. I wonder if anyone wants to hang out after I get off. I’m so stressed with two jobs and trying to pay off all my credit card debt. I need to wash all my uniform shirts. The new job in the Bronx still haven’t given me a proper sized uniform. They also don’t pay me enough for everything they have me do but apparently that’s up to the tenants in the building if I should get paid more. Maybe I should stop by the house tomorrow and take a nap after doing the laundry. I hardly sleep, during the night shifts at the Enclave I can nap so that’s where a majority of my rest comes from. When I am home it’s usually super quick. Barely have a conversation with my daughters. They’re both good, if they need me they can call me. Let’s see if Leila, my wife, is gonna be moody. She’ll start arguing over the littlest things. While I’m here working two jobs she can’t even keep the house looking decent. If anything I’m the one who should be mad all the time but no, I’ll keep being the nice guy.