Wednesday and Thursday I was in such pms agony with cramps that went straight through to my spine..I laid in bed watching tv shows both days, going out only to deliver and fetch the spawn from school. Having had a blue and a purple already for talking in school, she had black on Wednesday, which is one step from detention. Yet no note from the teacher, no approach when she saw me at pick up. Seriously, if my kid is misbehaving to this point, shouldn’t she want to talk to me? Of course, my mood was vile and one of the other teachers kind of chastised me for being impatient with my good (her habit of interrupting people just irks me, cos yeah, she’s a kid, but kids who don’t get taught better become adults who constantly interrupt, like my dad, grrr.) and first it made me furious, then teary.
Nope, wait til the tempest passes before I broach all that.
By Friday I was accursed but no time to further lull in bed. Bills had to be paid.That day about killed me as I was forced to be uber functional for super long in the dish. A list of what I did that day:
Stop one, gas in the car. Stop two, smoke shop cos my lighter conked out on me. Third, drop off spawn. Four, ATM for cash. Five, drive three miles to pay internet bill. Six, a stop for cat food as the cats were out. Six, home to feed the monsters. Seven, pay rent. Eight, another store for cat litter. Nine- to the shop. (I forgot the trip to Walfuckingmart because I needed a shower mat that wasn’t so slick it was basically trying to kill us.) Ten- pick up drinks at Jiffistop, then lunch at Arby’s. Eleven- go to office of Liheap to get an appointment for winter power assistance as their phone had been busy for two days. Twelve- pick Spook up early for doctor appt about the cough. Thirteen- trip to Dollar Tree. Fourteen- pay rent. Fifteen, get nose pieces replaced on Spook’s glasses. Fifteen, gas station for a drink. Sixteen, pharmacy for my meds. (Oh, and a trip to mom’s to repay her the gas money I borrowed the week before, geesh.) Oh and a yard sale cos I was told they’d have cheap clothes for Spook but apparently my stepmonster and i have different ideas of cheap.
Yeah…Maybe that is normal for muggles but for me…That’s enough activity for a month. By the time I got home, the dish had thoroughly drained me and I was freaking out.
The day was further stressful because R asked me to the shop to kind of return for him fixing the faucet…And he got all pissy cos his stepdad came in, wanting me to show him how to do certain things on the computer. (He gave me ten bucks, so I am not complaining.) Oh, THEN in came the master’s degree appointed helper girl and…I can’t understand a word she says. Not a word. Nasal, slurred tone hindered by so many piercings. And um, she’s goth as fuck, which is kind of why I get irked when people assume me wearing black makes me goth. Um…No. But even I in all my rebellious glory would not show up for a “job reference” dressed quite that…goth. I tend to leave my spikes and concert war paint at home for local jaunts.
R informed my I was being judgmental. Um..Well, gee, it’s all I’ve ever known, guess it makes sense I’d turn it back on someone. Seriously, though…You’re hard pressed for cash and need a reference to get a “real” job…I’d tone it down a bit. I’m not one for dress codes and I do looove to rebel but assimilation, sucky as it is,is sometimes a necessary evil. I suppose though some of my get up (from, ya know, the rare times of not being too depressed to get out of the slobwear I slept in) might have been deemed inappropriate. Not much I can do about all my pants having holes in them. A year is about what you get out of ten dollar Wal-Mart leggings. It’s not that I want to look like a baglady. I just have no money to get pants without holes in them, sorry. It’s crazy, cos I have shirts coming out my nostrils. I have an awesome t-shirt collection, a lot of them in perfect shape. But pants…Since Fashion Bug closed and I had to start buying Walmart shit (same price yet quality is very different)…I can’t seem to stockpile any pants. And I am very picky, I will only wear black leggings. Hate jeans and slacks, hate hate hate.
Hmm…I am judgmental cos I kinda do my own thing without regard to social conformity. Well, when R starts paying me I’ll start giving a fuck. He showed up the other day wearing jeans that had one butt cheek poking through the hole in them and he could buy new clothes so I guess my poverty hole laden wardrobe isn’t a sin. I make do with what I’ve got.
Once done with the dish Friday, I pretty much went to Zulu land. Just vegetated in front of my shows, but then, I remember none of them, my brain was too exhausted to truly focus and get into it. All I have to say is, the brain better get on board this week. It’s the start of The Flash,Arrow, American Horror Story, Supernatural, et al…Do NOT fuck this up for me, scumbag brain, or I will stab you with a spork.
Yesterday Spook and I hit some yard sales. Only cos R’s stepdad gave me that ten, which didn’t come out of my tight budget, so I didn’t feel so shitty spending it.And it was worthwhile, I found a cheap cat condo which I have wanted for years. One sale had stuff for fifty cents, that had never even been removed from the package. Though I had to come back home after the first one. I’d gotten all excited that morning cos it’s boot season, I can wear boots without my legs sweltering…Except… this.
Okay, so I’ve had them sixteen months and they only cost sixteen bucks, seems cheap, right? Unless you don’t have it, and with book fair and school pix, I don’t have it. I have two other pairs of boots I love, but oh, wait…This is happening to one pair and Shoe goo ain’t fixing it, and the other pair has a zipper out and the local shoe repair place doesn’t do zippers. SEE. This will teach me too look forward to anything, even something as inane as boot season.
When Spook went to mom’s yesterday, I came home and basically laid in bed. I’ve been in mega pain, like labor pains, for four days. Today is better but but last night, I went to sleep cos the Tylenol wasn’t making a dent. Though I woke at ten til seven this morning, so I don’t have good vibes about this gloomy cool day. And my kid decides to remind me why by acting out cos she lost her green crayon and I won’t give her my new ones. Tough.
The seasonal is kicking up. Monday was eight degrees, shorts and tank top weather. Friday morning people were wearing gloves. No real segue, just an abrupt drop into cold. Fuck. And one week it’s getting dark at seven thirty, the next it’s 6:45…All this change sucks. And the doctor did get back to me, prescribed ten mg Prozac (he called me himself, which is a rarity, they usually have the minions do it). I’ve only been on the prozy two days now, but it can’t make things worse. I am doing all this light therapy, surrounding myself with all the happy novelty lava and glitter lamps that once made me so happy…Trying to battle this SAD but it boils down to being cold all the time. And I discovered, when Pantera managed to somehow get trapped inside, that my ductwork is all fucked up and I cansee dirt under the trailer which means…the ducts are not attached. Jebus, I have asked the maintenance people to fix it every fall for seven years now and they’re too lazy to get under there, they just tighten the siding up. I get three hundred dollar heating bills and still freeze to death. Idgets.
Woo hoo, I’ve been in a sitting position for ninety minutes now, which is more than I managed for four days. Oompa Loompas must be preparing to go on a vaycay. (Such a stupid term.)
In another act of suckage…I got the wrong prepaid card for my stupid phone, er smart phone, and they won’t make good on it. So service expires tomorrow and I am out twenty five bucks I did not have to spare. FUCK. I don’t think I will be dealing with Net10 anymore, I’m going back to Tracfone. Plans may be a little pricier in the long haul but service is better. And I own the phone (ten dollar smartphones are cool) so I can probably transfer. At another time. Whatever. Just be nice if something would go right.
I hate that damned thing as a phone but I like being able to check email easily. I am a conundrum.
No plans for today. I think I did enough dish time in the last two days. If I go out today, it will be by choice, not necessity.
And I guess that concludes today’s rant. Oh, no…One last thing. IF YOU TAG YOUR BLOG, AND ITS HEADER, AS BEING ABOUT BIPOLAR…MAKE IT ABOUT FUCKING BIPOLAR!!!! I despise blogs that send out multiple posts a day and NONE of them are about what I signed up to read about. That’s why I made separate topic specific blogs. Just…Duude…If you sign up for a food blog that spends all its time talking about lumber and home repair, wouldn’t you be a bit irked?
Must just be me.