Is it February yet?

The past two weeks have been very busy and hectic for me. The Wednesday before last started out with my mother and I arguing. Then, one of my police friends called me and got onto me for being stupid. My mother refused to speak to me for the rest of the day and then most of Thursday. When we finally did talk on Thursday, we spent a good half an hour agruing and then the rest of conversation went good. I went home on Friday.
Saturday, I got dressed up and went into the mall area, which I hate by the way, but I was going on a date so I can't really complain. We were suppose to meet at ten am. He never showed nor did he answer my phone calls or my texts. I went home and picked up my mother, and we went to the eye doctor.
There, we waited two hours, despite the fact that it was suppose to be a thirty minute wait. Then, on top of that, I found out that the eye doctor was suppose to have checked something that he didn't due to the medications I take. Plus, we were accused of insurance fraud, not once but twice.
Sunday, we go to my grandmother's house to sort through clothes that my aunt's church was trying to get rid of. My grandfather lived with my grandmother, despite the fact that they were divorced because he had to have someone take care of him because he was blind and an amputee that had to go to diaylsis. He didn't remember who I was, and he was confused almost the whole time that we were there. We talked about it and finally decided that it would be best for him to go to a nursing home, despite the way we all feel about them.
We called the VA and took him down there. They admitted him, and we left. Monday, I came back to school and started dealing with people belly aching over the time that we were going to Missouri. The rest of the week went decent.
Thursday, my aunt calls me and tells me that they amputated my grandfather's other leg without telling any of us that they were going to do it. Not much that I can do about it, considering the fact that I am three hours away. Plus the leg had been infected for months, and it wasn't getting any better.
Saturday, I was cleaning my room and got this urge to talk to my mother. I can't even remember now why I wanted to talk to her. My cell phone battery was going dead so I texted her to call me on the dorm phone. I, of course, got impatient and called her anyhow. I think in someways that connection we have in the womb never goess away. Well, at least not with my mother and I. My grandfather had died.
Got to go, but the rest will come later, I am sure.