The Dish And Its Dwellers Ruin Everything

So twas after nine last night, I was feeling calm, enjoying the last 20 minutes of San Andreas…when R disrupted and harshed my mellow. First wanting to make sure I hadn’t changed his email password. Then he called back and informed me his account had been frozen due to one of computers logging in “perpetuating viruses.” So…I was accused.

And more than fucking miffed and offended. Because yeah, it has to be the poor chick, couldn’t possibly be that ape like creature who rents the loft in the shop and spends most waking moments surfing porn thus infecting the computer daily.

So rather than finish my movie I went into instant panic mode, shutting my stuff down from the net connection, scanning everything including my wifi network, android phone, tablet,

virus scan, adware scan, malware scan, adw cleaner…I nodded off and woke at 1 a.m. to check the scans because being accused of being a virus magnet upset me so much, especially since he’d already determined his iphone can never get viruses and his laptop at home has barely been used and oh, the desktop at the shop was just scanned three weeks ago…(YEAH, FUCKFACE, I REMOVED THREE VIRUSES AND 127 MALWARE THREATS DUE TO *SOMEONE’S* PORN ADDICTION!)

No sooner than I nodded off again…Spook came to my bed and decided it was time to have a marathon yap chat. Took ninety minutes for her to go back to sleep, so it was more like two and half before I went back down. All the while she hogged most of the bed and I had to play Twister just to avoid crushing all the cats on the bed…

Of all the scans, two adware issues were turned up, and one was on the computer I haven’t even had connected to the net in months, let alone accessed his email. Jebus. Just so damned infuriating how he never pays any mind to my “don’t call after nine” edict cos it’s med time and if I am upset then the meds wear off and I gotta do it all over again…You don’t go setting off panic attacks in someone with panic disorder at fucking bedtime, you douchebag. Oh and he had the audacity to make a snarky comment about “when do you get to send your kid back to school, I need help.”

Six days of peace I had from the dish and its dwellers, I was even starting to feel isolated enough where perhaps spending a bit of time “out there” “with others” didn’t seem so daunting.

And he undoes it in a blink and wonders why I want to take a shovel to his skull.

He can rest assured after this bullshit that I will NEVER use any of my own devices, or my wifi network, to check his mail, order his parts, or do any of his bidding again. FFS, the shop computer had a keystroke logger on it a couple months back. Never occurred to him a hacker could have captured a shitload of info before it was caught and removed which might explain why some dude in Indonesia hacked his Amazon account and email and ordered a bunch of shit on his credit card…

Have I been hacked or even had to change my email password? NOPE. Though I do change my password when the panxiety kicks in. Plus, in spite of not having a fancy degree like him, I don’t use the exact same password for every account. Moron.

I thought today was going to be better cos the sun was out when I first got up. Ha. That lasted about forty minutes before going MIA. I guess my “bright side” is at least for the first time in five days it wasn’t fucking pouring cats, dogs, and squids. Gray and cold is the default now, I suppose. So my mood never really did lift up much and then…

Further splat. I got my Magicjack updated and working on a different computer so I can actually call people now so I called mom…I asked if she’d babysit tonight so I can go to my early morning dr appt tomorrow without kid in tow (she doesn’t like to get up early). Nope. She insists New Year’s Eve so I muttered, “Yeah, I couldn’t possibly want to spend it with my kid.” And she sneered, “I figured you wanted to get drunk.”

Pfft, getting drunk on New Year’s is as cliche as wearing green on St Patrick’s Day.

Suffice it to say, I have my kid tonight but she will be over there tomorrow because obviously it’s what’s more important to my idget mother than them doing a goddamn thing that might be of assistance to me. One more reason to hate the dish and its dwellers.

“But if you needed a sitter why didn’t you tell me?”

Batshit old woman.

I hovered in the mood “fuck it all” gutter for awhile..Then I got up and tackled the rest of the laundry, managing to fold six baskets and get them all put away so that’s one less stressor placed on me. My kid begged me to fix omelettes so we ran out for shredded cheese. The car died eleven times. It was awesome. And by that, I mean bullfuckingshit miserable stupid  ass electronic carb. I dread going out for that reason enough on its own cos one day someone is gonna be yakking on their damn phone and not notice my car has died and just slam right on into me. Sadly I can’t even say, oh, well just buy me a new carb for my birthday, Dad. Because it’s a fucking electronic carb and they are infamous for all doing this same damned thing during cold and wet weather. S0 joy joy fucking joy.

I got my kid fed and bathed, then I tossed my own skanky self into a shower and put on my footed jammies cos I am cold and I am anxiety ridden and frankly…this is all the comfort I am getting at the moment even if I feel like a six year old.

SUPPOSEDLY the disability checks will be deposited tomorrow as the normal day is a weekend. I will sleep and wake even more tonight fretting about that. Then if it is there I have to get out to the DMV and pay them over a hundred bucks for the sticker renewal for the car. Nothing says joy like the damned DMV.

That’s after I drag my kid along with me to the shrink, hope she behaves, and pray to the pegacorn priestesses that he will listen and HEAR me when I say…The Cymblotto is making me a damned nervous wreck and I need Lithium.

For everyone’s talk about how mood stabilizers kill creativity…I got to looking back at my longest writing jags…And ALL of them were while I was on Lithium. Every. Single. One. I guess my brain needs slowed down that much.I can’t think of a better gift for my birthday than for my brain to quiet down and allow me to have my writing back. Now if the child support order goes through, that’s just gravy. But money can’t buy my writing flame and more than all else…I want that back.

Maybe if I were writing I’d have less venom to spew here.

Gonna be a long night and a bitch getting to and staying asleep until I can rip the bandage off and be done with the dish tomorrow. And so help me if R calls again tonight after nine, I am NOT answering it, period.

I’m gonna tell him his stupid iphone gave my tracfone elitist snob cooties so we may only ever speak in person now.

Thanks to Diane for this…In memory of Lemmy, with admiration…


8 Responses to “The Dish And Its Dwellers Ruin Everything”

  1. We need, I mean REALLY. NEED. to get together & get shitfaced! (still hanging, nope, DANGLING at the end of my rope). Good luck tomorrow. Love ya Sissy! ❤

  2. mmm bop

  3. Sounds to me like a shovel is too easy. Middle finger shaped torpedo on his head it is.

  4. Over $100 for sticker renewal. Our registration is around $39 and no sticker fee. Fail, that’s a different story.

  5. I hope you shrink listens to you today and you get what you need. Trying to get everything out and explain why you need to switch meds in a 15 minute time block is so difficult.
    Maybe you can turn the ringer off on the phone after you take your meds at night? If people can’t respect your needs maybe you can force them by not even knowing that they are calling. Fuck him if he gets upset that he can’t reach you at 9:30 at night. I was raised to believe that it’s rude to call someone before 9:00 am and after 8:00 pm. It’s a shame no one instilled that into R’s head.

  6. Wow… just… wow. That guy doesn’t know how good he has it.
    Hope you get your meds sorted.
    And that picture of Lemmy reminded me of something one of my friends said – he’s actually been dead since 1987 but it’s taken this long for the methamphetamines to wear off so he didn’t notice until now.

    • Hells, yeah, on Lemmy!

      Though I would beg to differ he died in 1992, cos no way that scene in Airheads where he yelled “I used to masturbate…constantly!” was done by a dead man.

      On Thu, Dec 31, 2015 at 1:35 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


      • That’s a fair point lol. Argh I want to kick myself, Motorhead were on my Bands Bucket List and I had a chance to see them in June but it meant driving 7 hours and having to get back across to see NOFX the very next evening, and I thought, there’s no way I can get there, it’s a 14 hour drive. It was their only UK gig this year aside from Glasto (which is expensive and mostly full of shit ‘easy listening’ bands). I was really looking forward to seeing them in 2016 at Download festival as they’d just confirmed last month. I dunno what they’re doing about the band, I guess it’s too early for them to decide, but it’s not going to be Motorhead without Lemmy. And another person who got out of Staffordshire (aka the shithole where I grew up) has snuffed it. I think it’s only Lemmy and Slash from round there that ever made anything of themselves, and they never looked back once they left.

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