Well, I had the alarm set and all. I am supposed to be at the school registering my kid since the stupid website isn’t accepting my email as valid. (I changed it mid term cos I uh, forgot my password for the one I used, and oh, the password for the one I used as backup for lost password.) It goes until noon. I haven’t done fuck all but check email. I’d rather read posts and swap comments with wordpress people than go out into the stupid dish. Yet yesterday I was all “I can get this done, don’t have a choice.”
It’s fucking redundant and stupid anyway, I pre registered her in June.What was the point of that if it counts for nothing? Has technology really made things better when you still have to take in paper copies of all the shit they need?
Yep, I’m in a mood. For once if asked “are you pms-ing” I could say yeah and I have a gun, any other questions? (And yes, a staple gun can be as deadly a weapon as nine millimeter so the law has failed to disarm this crazy bitch.)
Pardon any grammatical errors as my keyboard is clogged with bits of tobacco, ash, cat hair, and probably Jimmy Hoffa’s body. Hey, it survived a year with me, that’s more than the externals make it. I am a keyboard punisher. They need to make kid tuff keyboards for my ass. Anyway, missing caps and all that…Bad keyboard and I can’t replace it til, well probably 2016.
Last night was weird. I didn’t take the sleeper shit. I did Melatonin. And woke up four times, so I took another dose of it. (It probably didn’t help that my kid climbed in my bed and I kept getting an elbow to the eyeball ‘cos she can’t sleep vertically, she has to play fucking Twister in her sleep.) That hypnotic stuff just scares the fuck out of me. I can’t even fathom, no matter the unlikelihood, of going for a drive while on that shit and leaving my kid home alone and having no memory. The law doesn’t give a fuck if you were under the influence of the latest coma pill. I’m tired of being dismissed as dramatic when it’s a legit concern. I would like to sleep, but it’s a catch 22. I am non compliant, sue me.
I should go register her. I got all my paperwork in a binder. Which if it’s like last year, I’ll take it all, they will make copies, someone will fuck up, and I will be expected to bring it all back for more copies to be made. Ass trash. I knew I was gonna have issues with her going to school and the school system itself. If I manage to drag my ass out once, be thankful. Making me do it repeatedly because of your ineptitude just triggers my “kick your skull in’ response.
As predicted, I’ve not heard a word for R since I refused to drop all and do his bidding Monday. Not even a reply to my texts. Which probably means wifey is home for her two weeks before the next college session starts. Amazing how he uses the fuck out of me when no one else is there to yet blows me off otherwise and wonders why I have an attitude. And this isn’t me being demanding or needing attention. It’s common courtesy and fair play. If I don’t reply to his most inane text, he has a fit. Yet he can blow me off and it’s okay ‘cos he’s important and sooo busy. Narcissists suck.
Trying to find my give a damn so I’ll get dressed and go get this school shit done. Somehow, facing the dish right now seems like climbing a mountain coated in KY. It’s the limited sporks thing. I’m gonna need every spork I can get to survive the outing for Spook’s birthday Friday. And I am having trouble choosing the lesser evil. Do I ride with mom and sis and get stuck at their mercy? Or do I risk my driving anxiety to go to the bigger town knowing my tires aren’t in great shape? Gun, knife, noose.
Suppose if sis is driving, I could take a flask. Ha ha ha. I don’t even own one. Not that there’d be a big enough one for dealing with the big dish as well as my mom and a crowded restaurant full of screechy kids. I’d need a keg of vodka for that. Which I already need for the bill stress, the school shit, and yet another change in meds. The only saving grace is I have no money for booze and R isn’t around to enable me. And the man is a world class enabler. I asked him to help me buy my Focalin before it was insurance approved, like forty bucks. He said no. But any given week he’ll blow forty bucks on booze and smokes for me. Makes absolute sense, right?
Okay, the school message said I could call if I had any problems yet i call and get an answering machine. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck. LIES.
Was thinking if I called maybe they could help me with my website log in or arrange another time for me to register her. This is not a good time. I am feeling sort of…volatile. Thank you, horrormones.
Know what I did yesterday? Fuck all. Dishes. I had to run to Aldi, which with my fave store closed, is my only close by option. I wanted tacos, though and needed shells. My idea of a good taco: Hard shell, seasoned meat, shredded cheese. PERIOD. Frankly, it wasn’t my need for tacos that drove me, it was more that I ran out of sugar for my iced tea. I had two bottles of pop in the fridge, which in the old days, I’d have been more than happy with. Now I can barely choke down one sip, it seems overly sweet. Stupid corn syrup.
Have I done enough inane chattering? I think so. Only point was…with bipolar, what you plan one day can change drastically by the next. It gives zero fucks and laughs its ass off at you.
Today I don’t even have the energy to flip it off. Meh.