Fire hydrant day

Came home to find MY HOME WAS BURGLARIZED. All that was taken was the LCD tv and my laptop, but I was freaking the fuck out anyway. I love my laptop (trying to type on this tiny netbook sucks, plus the sound on it is fucked which makes it useless for the shit I enjoy.) but I don’t give a damn about the TV. My computer had all my pix of my kid, for fuck’s sake. I kept saying I was going to copy it all to an external…Procrastination be thy name.

There’s been a rash of burglaries in the neighborhood, only electronics taken. Electronics worth something for pawn, apparently, considering all that was NOT take. Joke is on the thieves though. The TV was a Vizio which is at 2 years about to reach its lifespan before needing repair. I hope it’s full of dust and catches on fire on them. Terrible, aren’t I?

My safe space was violated, that’s the big kicker. I have desktop computers and this netbook and some old tube tvs,so that stuff isn’t the big thing. It’s the pictures of Spook and the violation of my safe space that have me in full panic mode.

I called the olice, they sent an officer. He asked 5 questions, totally disinterested, said,”The burglaries are going around this neighborhood.” Like it’s the fucking flu.

I had a thought that since only the tv and my laptop were taken and the donor never returned his key that maybe he just helped himself. I don;t like to think that, though, because he is my kid’s father.  But those were the big ticket items he did pay for (tv I didn’t give a damn about, he convinced me I needed a laptop even though I said I didn’t.)  I can see him caring about the money aspect.

NO. I will not think that way. When the cop asked who else had a key I said my husband left two years ago and never gave it back but I didn’t want to involve him..And Spook blurted out his name proudly. So if they question him, I am sure there will be hell to pay for me. Never mind I’m the one who was taking the high road. It will bite me on the ass in some way.

My old friend Shane is in town for a funeral, staying at R’s. He came by the shop today and it was good to see him, he is still such a funny sweetheart of a person. R does not deserve his friendship and loyalty. I’d say neither do I, since I am so corrupt.

By corrupt I mean, I just have no tolerance for the kiddie pool that comprises the people around me. I am saying they are shallow. Vapid, even. It’s like I simply cannot relate to them because I am in the deep end, and because I want to be a better person (or devolve, as it were) I try to just bury my depth of emotion and interact in a shallow manner.

It leaves me feeling hollow and full of self loathing.

I think the worst part is that I SHOULD want the socialization thing, that;s normal right?

But the entire time R was prattling on today and pelting me with Youtube videos of bands that were relevant 20 years ago and going off on his “This reminds me” stories…I sat, looking bored, trying to feign interest, while scumbag brain screamed SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP YOU ARE ON MY LAST NERVE AND ANNOYING ME INTO A COMA!

That intolerance is totally on me.

But I was kind of socially stunted at an early age and forced to become comfortable with my own company. I am comfortable and stimulated doing my own thing, always have been. So what others consider “fun”, ie socializing with “friends” just feels torturous to me. I guess my social ineptitude training imprinted for life.

It’s not that I think I am better or more interesting.

I just know the things I enjoy doing. None of which include cookouts, getting wasted 7 days a week, discussing various inanities about youtube videos,or listening to a 15 minute spiel about a book I have no interest in. I try to compromise and become interested because that is what is socially acceptable.

Thing is, no one seems to reciprocate. I told R that his laid back Smithereen’s songs had harshed my mellow, trying to be funny, so I wanted to listen to something I liked. And he said, “God forbid you should like anything I do.” Yet the song I liked, he hated. I didn’t snark at him, though. Geesh, I am surrounded by middle aged children.

And  I am harping on this because I keep looking at the stand, hoping my laptop has magically reappeared. It makes me sad. I buried kittens last week. Got burgled this week. My freezer is on the fritz again. I have to host a pizza party for my brother Sunday for his birthday gift complete with my whiny ass sister and her brethren being here. Or then again, maybe they will demand I bring the pizzas to her house because my place isn’t good enough for them.

Given it is synonymous with poor white trash to live where I do. Trailer parks are like that. But I like my home. It will never make better homes and gardens for sure, and I am a lousy housekeeper but I tend to focus on “tidying” rather than going apeshit with a toothbrush and Comet in the grouting.

I am sooo deflecting.

I just can’t handle knowing someone was in my home, in my child’s home. I have always felt relatively safe here. Having someone bust into my home (well, through a window with a broken lock) in broad daylight and no one sees a thing…God, it just makes me want to cry. More than that, it makes me mad. But losing my pictures of Spook just makes me sad, sad sad. I can never get those back.

FUCK.

I only flog myself on days ending in DAY.

If I had backed everything up…

If…If…If…

My kid asked me the other day why her poppy and daddy and r and kenny all have jobs and I don’t. And I felt sooo low. Because I can’t even manage the most basic thing. But I told her there was something wrong with my brain that made it difficult for me to work. She can’t understand, of course, but I just feel I need her to understand it’s not because I am lazy or without desire to be self supporting for us. I just can’t seem to get my brain to work right even medicated. I went back to my split med routine today and it resulted in low mood, annoyed mood, happy mood, low mood, then came home and went into panic mode which has lead to “scared to sleep” mode because I feel vulnerable now.

Just reinforces what I have always believed. Owning anything of value is bad because people covet and will take. From now on, I only want absolutely crappy stuff that wouldn’t bring a dollar at a yard sale.

Ok. I’m done, I am just writing to fill my mind because otherwise, I might start flipping out. Someone was in my kid’s home, my home, dirtying up the air with their evil auras. It’s almost too much for my brain to comprehend. I’ve never had a home burgled. Car, yes, home never.

Not an experience I like.

Some days you’re the dog.

Some days you’re the fire hydrant.

I do NOT like my all too frequent position as the hydrant.

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