Well, the maintenance one trailer down continues. Slamming doors, loud voices, trucks parking outside my bloody window. It’s got me crawling in my skin with anxiety even though I took a Xanax. And as insane as this will sound…I don’t think these yellow ones work right. Oh, sure, it’s alprazolam, different manufacturer, all in my head. I wish my pharmacy would just get the peach ones back in. In my head or not, I like what works best. Or maybe there’s just no relief to be had when I am so super sensitive to sound. Used to, it was just excessively loud noise- stereos too loud, jackhammers, lawn mowers, etc. Now every tiny normal ambient sound drives me to the brink. I thought with age I might become less neurotic, calm down. Ha. Anxiety disorder laughs in my face.
So this morning I needed to break a ten so I could give my kid a buck fifty to get a Smencil and xmas lollipop at school. Figured, hey I want sweet tea, Mickey D’s will work. And wouldn’t you know it…Some kind soul in front of me went ahead and paid for my tea. That’s twice in the last month a perfect stranger has one that. It’s gotta be the rusted bashed up car, they must feel sorry for me. (I’ll put my car’s engine up against anything in these newer cars any day. Fuck beauty, give me power and performance.) So that act of random kindness left me still holding a ten. I ran to the shop, figuring he’d have change in the drawer so I could break it. Nope, he did deposit yesterday, no cash. Kenny had no cash. FUCK. I promised my kid a Smencil (can only get them on Mon and Wed) but by then there was no time to run anywhere else. I scrounged up fifty cents in dimes so she could at least get a sucker. Then as she’s getting out of the car…I realize she forgot to put her glasses on. And stupid mommy didn’t catch it. I should take the glasses to her but damn…Let her experience being half blind all day, maybe she will come to appreciate the glasses and how they do their job.
Meh, mom of the year people won’t be calling me any time soon. Odd cos back in the day “tough love” was THE thing to do. Now, it’s like you don’t bow down before the snowflakes so they don’t step in a mud puddle and you’re neglectful. (I read a story yesterday about a woman who let her 4 year old play outside, in her sight through the front door, and neighbor decided to turn her in for neglect so she got arrested and is on charges and has a DCFS case against her now. For letting her kid play outside. In a posh gated community. FFS.)
Tis cold and gloomy again today. Makes me miss yesterday’s sunshine immensely. All this gloom is depressing. Hate the sun, hate the gloom, but damn it, being warm makes me functional. This damn cold settled into my bones makes me….Not functional. That and I have a stomach ache, IDK why, but I am just all around icky today. To top it all off…The ductwork is undone AGAIN and the cats are escaping through a heat vent that doesn’t screw down and going through the open ducts to get outside, then coming back in the same way. Apparently rusty duct work falls apart when fixed with duct tape and it rains a monsoon for six days straight. I wasn’t about to go an extra four hundred to replace it all, though. I don’t own the place so I just want functional, not fancy. If it would ever warm up the tiniest bit (hint hint, sunshine) I’d just fucking slither under there and fix it my damned self. Damned cats. Seriously, how was I supposed to know the furry bitches had the intelligence to bat the vent open then go rogue and wrestle their way out the damp taped duct.
It would be real lovely if anything ever went right for me.
And please don’t suggest I contact maintenance since they’re practically next door. That one guy is the prick who threatened to bring his rotweiller over to kill all the stray cats. I’ll be damned if I give him more than the middle finger, I’ll fix it my fucking self. Ya know, when my motivation is located.
So far today I’ve watched izombie and The Flash. OMG, Flash blew my mind. And as it’s a crossover ep with Arrow, it continues tonight and I’m a tiny bit giddy. After last week’s holiday drought with no new shows…I am lapping up every bit of fiction soup for my soul. Pegacorn knows I’ve got five weeks of hellish holiday programming and nothing new coming my way. Gasp- I will have to go back to watching all seasons of Scrubs, comedy, ewwwww.
People take my sarcastic humor way too seriously. I am a dark person but I also mock that aspect of my personality. Yesterday when I fetched Spook she was like, “I drew a family portrait but you’re gonna be mad at me…” And I was like, why, and she said, “I drew you smiling.”
See. I joke about, no I can’t smile, my face will crack and it will hurt…Mainly cos I get fucking sick of being told to “smile, it’s not that bad.” Fuck off. But yeah, my kid thinks my humor is serious. Is there an age where they start grasping sarcasm or did I get the misfortune of my kid, like my mother, having little humor and no appreciation for sarcasm?
Kinda like when I call her a budding sociopath. I’m JOKING, ffs. Twenty years of therapy, I think I’ve earned the right to mock all their precious terminologies and groupings of personality traits that make one “disordered”. Besides, I have a valid point. Without socialization and being taught “right from wrong” we’re born sociopaths. Her behavior is pretty basic for a kid who’s had limited socialization. It’s still funny to “analyze” everyone in the spirit of mocking all that damned therapy that never did cure my biggest problem. Being bipolar depressive. Seriously, what can a counselor say that changes a chemical imbalance? They deserve my mockery.
I’m against burning books but I think I would make an exception for the Douchebaggery Simpleton Manual, aka, their bible. Burn, bitch, burn. I was a much happier person before therapy not only put my own flaws in the spotlight but made me highly attuned to everyone else’s, as well. I wanna go back the days where I wasn’t “personality disorder otherwise not specified.” Back when I was “eccentric” or “quirky.” Those are not personality disorders. That douchebaggery manual wants to make everything a disorder. Hell, they’d have my cats on pills and in therapy if they had their way. Cat lays around all day and sleeps? Must need kitty Prozac. Willow hisses at everyone? She must have anti social personality disorder.
Really…It’s all comical at this point.
Spook asked me over the weekend, “If we don’t have any money, how do you get all these computers and a smart phone and a tablet…”
For a split second, I almost felt shitty for having “too much”.
But let’s see…The desktop slave computer was bought used for a hundred bucks five years ago. This laptop was a freebie R frankensteied for me out of spare parts left at the shop. (I’ve sprung for an external sound card, a power adapter cord and two keyboards, so oh.,..I have about fifty bucks in it.) The Toshiba laptop in the living room was given to me by a guy who didn’t want to spring for a replacement screen, so I just hooked up an external monitor (which my dad got at an auction and gave me for free.) The desktop pc in my bedroom was $75 and R paid for all but $30 of that one. The tablet…$39.99 no name. The smart phone? Ten bucks, and it’s a wifi device because I can’t afford forty bucks a month for the actual phone service.
So ok, I have a lot of electronic stuff but it’s accumulated over time and nothing cost big bucks. Because I can live with a pc that still runs on XP. Because I don’t need an idouche product. Because I am not that picky. Still, she gave me the brief moment of feeling bad for having “too much.” Yet we have a 24 inch CRT (chunky old analog) model in the living room. It cost $27 bucks at Salvation Army six years ago. I have “too much stuff” because I am cheap, not picky, and not too proud to take hand me downs. I’d like to instill this appreciation for what you can get rather than live miserably always wanting unrealistic things. It will either be that or she will grow up resenting used stuff and being broke and get herself a rich husband or the education so she can afford to spend willy nilly.
On a final note…I spent a buck to get a new lighter, I’ve got sore calloused fingers from the roller Bics so I went push button. Well, good news…it’s child proofed. Bad news…I can’t even figure it out half the damn time. When the dollar store sells shit smarter than me…It’s a sad fucking day.