Adventures of a Shockingly Average 30-Something

For my final for Integrated Literacy and Science Methods, I had to do a group project called "Where Are The Books?"  We had to create a lesson plan incorporating literacy and science, with extension activities for math and social studies, find 18 books (each) about a given topic, choose 10 (of our total number) books to display for our project, and create a poster display for when we present at "Where Are The Books?" on Wednesday during finals week (this week). My group and I spent 2 and a half hours on Thursday working on our poster, then another six and a half hours yesterday, and we're nearly  finished with it at this point.  We're meeting again tomorrow, and I think tomorrow is going to take maybe 45 minutes-an hour, and then we'll be finished with our poster.  And then we have to finish the lesson plan.  And then (after we present) we have to write a reflection paper about creating and presenting everything. Because I'm ridiculously proud of...

I don't know how to be fine when I'm not.  I don't know how to be ok.  I try.  I try so hard to act like everything's ok, when the honest truth is that it isn't.  I'm not ok.  I'm not fine.  I'm really, really not.  I miss my dad so much all the time.  I just want to hear his voice one more time.  I want to apologize for the fact that we argued the last time we talked.  I want him to know I still loved him even though I was mad at him.  Everyone keeps telling me that it's not a big deal that we argued and that I was mad at him, but to me, it is .  People keep saying that if things hadn't happened, the argument would have been completely forgotten about - and they're probably right, but that's not the way it happened.  And I would have talked to him on my birthday, but instead I spent my birthday in the car on the way back home to New York, the day after the funeral and the burial.  I should have seen him at Christmast...

Happy birthday Dad. I wanted to make this big, long post, but now that I'm typing this, I don't know what to say.  I miss you.  I wish I could call you and hear your voice again.  I wish I could tell you happy birthday over the phone or on skype. Part of me is angry that I can't, but it's stupid to be angry.  Isn't it?  What happened wasn't anyone's fault.  There's nothing and no one to be angry at.  But I am.  I know I've said it some many times, but it's not fair.  It's not fair that Nikki and I can't call you.  It's not fair to Cody and Hailey that you're not there anymore.  It's not fair that you died.  None of it's fair.  I hate myself every single day for the fact that the last time we ever talked, we argued.  I hate myself every single day because I can't remember if I told you "love you" the last time I hung up the phone with you.  I wish I could have a do-over.  Just to redo that conversation an...