Irate

Well, I don’t know what my problem is but I bet it’s hard to pronounce. I woke up in a pissy state. Traffic taking my kid to and from school just made me angry and irate. Ya know it’s never a good sign when you’ve said “for fuck’s sake” ten times and it’s not yet eight a.m.

I think part of it is, my panxiety is off into the stratosphere. The maintenance people are working one trailer down (it’s been empty three years, bout fucking time they clean it up) but there’s lots of trucks and slamming doors and guys yelling. It just makes me paranoid and nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. So I become irate. I am gonna have to take a Xanax before I head out for dish duty.

Oh, yes, his highness beckoned last night. After I’d gotten comfy in vanilla bean blankie fort and taken my sleepy time meds…Then he got irked cos I was sorta out of it. FFS, I’ve said not to call after nine over and over and yet…Fuck you.Besides, it’s my right to be monosyllabic at any hour, especially on the phone. I hate fucking phones. And of course, his iphone doesn’t get along with my tracfone or Magicjack/droid phone so there’s distortion and he bitches…GRRRR.

So I guess I went batshit tirade in my last post about his latest douchebaggery but I didn’t elaborate and this left some confused or feeling shortchanged. I was so stressed last night cos of the spawn acting out, it didn’t even occur to me to explain.

I’ve discussed how we do this barter system thing. I do something for him, he gives me his credit card to get things I gotta have. Well, then there’s him coming over when his wife’s out of town at work and he needs an entertainer monkey (me) so he’s constantly handing me the card to go get him more beer, or get us both smokes.

Thing he is, by then he’s usually six sheets to the wind so he forgets.

When the credit card bills came in, he went fucking ballistic. Adding things up, adding again, carrying on about having a $170 balance when it should have been under a hundred. And I point out the charges he okayed and he looks all baffled and says, “Are you sure I okayed that?”

Seriously, you fuckwad? How else would I get the credit card if you didn’t hand it to me?

THEN he calls the credit card company and puts it on speaker while he waits and this nice woman answers…and he starts yelling and cursing her because he’s only gotten X amount of skymiles over 2o years and it was just like…OMG, you’re drunk, shut the fuck up. She’s got nothing to do with corporate policy.

I just can’t wrap my brain around his logic. I’ve had access to AmEx info for four years now. I coulda done some serious damage with his 14 k limit. So why the fuck would he spaz out over seventy dollars of charges he okayed but was too drunk to remember?

And it’s not just when he’s drunk, he pulls the same shit while sober. Swear he didn’t say or do something when I damn well know that he did. (Yea, playing “messing with Sasquatch with the crazy lady isn’t fucking wise, dumbass.) Just…be fucking honest. Get your shit together.

“I don’t get drunk and I don’t forget things.”

Bullfuckingshit.

He also spazzed over a thirty dollar charge cos I won an auction on ebay and because Paypal’s been dicking me around all month I used his account and he okayed it up to a certain amount. Then it comes in and he’s all like, “You can come in tomorrow and help me and we’ll write that off…” After a ten minute discussion in which his drunk ass assumed the total charge was sixty when I was trying to tell him it was only thirty and 1/3 was shipping charges. JEBUS.

So he wanted me there first thing this morning. It’s 9 and I’m not even dressed. Part of it is…Ha ha. I am waiting for my mom to repay me the twenty she owes cos the car is on E. I don’t mean near E. I mean “hold my breath and hope I can get 1/4 mile to the gas station” E. Fuck. My horrorscope, to top it all off, informed me I am gonna have foot in mouth disease today and offend people with my lack of social skill.

Ha ha ha ha. Life is hysterical.

I need to breathe. And take a Xanax. And install a mute button on myself cos I can’t be trusted to turn off the snark and avoid the whole social faux paux thing.

Happy flipping Tuesday.

I already want alcohol.

 

 

 

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17 Responses to “Irate”

  1. Irate, too. Hope these xanax you’re always talking about are helpful for the IRATE 🙂

    • IDK, anti anxiety agents are like chocolate. I have tried buspar, Klonopin, seroquel, ativan…NONE of it did a thing except for the Xanax. I’ve heard of people who respond well to everything BUT Xanax.
      Whatever moves your furniture, dude. Or ya know, makes your mental furniture stop moving so you can think straight.
      In all honesty, I find it comical that your doc dishes out Xanax instead of a Klonopin refill. My doctors are the opposite, they think Xanax is evil and shove Klonopin at me when it does no good. Only my stubborn streak saves me from a life of panxiety. I am just waiting til they suggest popping spearmint tic tacs for anxiety relief. Same thing as tic’tac’o’pin for me.
      Idgets.

      • He couldn’t immediately refill the kpin or he’d be seen as a drug pusher. The first one I took was a success, just slept for three hours. Just popped another and hope not to wake until morning. So far, so good on the Xanax. I see him on Tuesday and will bite the bullet and ask for an anti-depressant. It’s getting dark fast. It’s sheer free fall. Maybe I do swing more on axis 1 because I don’t have a ton of experience with this and it is frightening as hell. Probably why I went on such a dumbass, massive bender because I felt it coming and I may as well be in a psyche word at this point. I can kinda sorta interact on WP but have become a deaf mute otherwise and just want out from the pain.

      • Awww….I wanna name you George and hug you and squeeze you…Sorry, Looneytoons…
        Really though…big hugs. I can’t relate to bipolar one exclusively but I can fathom what fresh hell it has to be to drop from mania to black depression. I’d say welcome to my world but I like you and I would prefer no one have to be here with me cos it sucks.
        If you ever do wanna talk, email me. Sjnce my pc hard drive went death knoll I have to make sure my droid is on to receive calls but it costs me nothing extra…
        I have a misdemeanor charge on my record cos I went batshit so if anyone understands…it’s me. FUFL-fuck up for life.

  2. Hey does that Android device have recording capabilities? Because if it does it sounds to me like you may want to record all these “okay” moments and play them back to him at times like these. Then again he may get insulted he’s being recorded or WHY DO YOU HAVE TO RECORD?!

    Still I get this frustration. I knew an R too and it was— well he gave me some trauma and now I flinch whenever someone offers me their credit card if I help them with this or that. You’d think that since it’s not like I’m getting money for nothing it wouldn’t make me feel guilty but when you need someone’s cash and they complain or question charges even when you help or entertain them for it (that sounded so bad but whatever) it’s unavoidable, you know? Eff. I’m still mad at Spook’s dumbass school for being shitheads about the bus. This world is a fucking mess.

    • As a matter of fact my tracfone and the android have voice recorders and I have pondered using them if they didn’t take so long to access. (voice activated micro cassette recorders were much easier for subterfuge.)
      He once whipped out his i(diot)phone’s recorder and said, “Here, say some more, I want you to realize how stupid you sound.”
      I was on shark week and crying because my bread crust was stale, so of course, it was all about him and me being objective and logical while tears oozed out of my ducts in spite of my veto power.
      Grrr. I have to focus on the good aspects of the man(satan) or I’d have bashed in his skull with a barbwire shovel already.

  3. I know the R-sole is a good friend and his wife is cool and that your trade agreement does good stuff…. but the credit card stuff is very, very cuntly, controlling and manipulative. Hugs to you for it all, tribeswoman, it’s a shitty place for you to be in. Toaster says just wolf whistle in his direction whenever you’d like some backup.

  4. FFS IS mono-syllabic, but mono-syllabic is not, unless you pronounce it slowly. You must have been awake to write that. I’ll want some alcohol in exactly 1 week from 4 hours ago (it’s noon) since I don’t get a day off from work in way too long now. Christmas is coming and I know I shouldn’t stress about any of it but it’s got me keyed up, thankful though that Thanksgiving is over and done. My family pushes me so hard to be normal, whatever that is. I should shop, guilt trip, I hate guessing plus the money’s already spent. Bought a lottery ticket for myself, here’s hoping. If I win, I’m buying a minion for Christmas. And I’ll buy you a new mausoleum, and you’ll never have to ask the dono-R for anything ever again.~DM

  5. R IS. ABSOLUTE. TOTAL. FUCKING. DICK. HEADCHEESE,,, ICK!!

    • Yeah, he can be douchey but he has good moments. Had he remembered that about me in spite of focusing on my bipolar swings…I probably wouldn’t be so bitter.
      You just don’t get to say “Accept me flaws and all” then reject someone for a chemical imbalance in their brain that makes your life difficult. That’s not love or acceptance.
      I just wanna be the best version of me. True to my quid pro mindframe…I resent him because I try to do better and he remains the same…
      I can’t be anything but me, right?

    • Btw, thanks for the mental image of dick cheese. I’ve never had to contend with it before so my curiosity hit google images…
      SCRUB MY EYES OUT WITH COMET NOW!

      • Hah, you’re welcome. Never dealt with it in my life soo,,, the very idea though,,, puke!

      • OH. I was gonna tell you the pet anti depressants are dead on. I had never heard of such a thing til my mom brought home a scandal rag about Beverly Hills,. 90210’s Luke Perry had a pot belly pet pig and had to take it to a pet shrink for therapy/meds cos he worked such long hours the pig was lonely/ He could afford a pet nanny. Mine always act out by pooping in the bathtub to protest me being gone too long. And if I ever dare to let the cat boxes go for a day,..they will pee on my bed or on me. Sounds shrink/med worthy to me.

        On Sat, Dec 5, 2015 at 3:53 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

        >

  6. Hah, fucking pets getting better understanding/treatment than us! Yeah I heard antidepressants/antianxiety meds for 4 leggers before.

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