Quicksilver Quicksand

Breathe easy, folks…I am not gonna rail on the fundraiser in this post.

No, it’s been days since I had a good rant and venting is required so…fasten your seatbelts or don’t read any further…Venom and frustration are about to fly.

I have done more running around town in the last four days than I normally do in a month. I am fucking exhausted (as evidenced by three days of stomach troubles signifying my stress threshold has been exceeded.) Saturday morning was spent at the wonderful Department Of Motor Vehicles. Oddly busy for a weekend day. Yay. So I sat and waited. And got all paranoid that I didn’t have enough money for the plates and sticker and taxes. Cos ya know, that’s how my luck goes. Get quoted one price, charged another.

Around me, others were getting licenses and such…and though it’s just standard issue stuff they have to ask…I kept hearing the DMV employees ask, “Do you take medication that could cause you to become drowsy or fall asleep while driving? Have you spent time in a psychiatric center in the last four years…”  And I’m just like….Yeah, you’re kinda begging for people to lie to you. Answering truthfully would put half the country on foot simply for admitting we take meds that could make us drowsy while driving. FFS.

But I made it out alive. I was sweating bullets with the Chevy, cos I had to keep putting a gallon of water in it to get where I was going, another gallon to get back home. I dared to stop at Dollar Tree and then my dad called, I assumed they were ready to bring my kid back so I rushed home. They didn’t bring her home for three more hours. So what the fuck was the point of calling me to come home, you cockweasels?0319161323-00Anyway, they shelled out ten bucks to have her picture taken with the Easter bunny. Odd how they can spend frivolously while still claiming to be broke, yet if I had wanted to spent the ten bucks for the picture…I’d have gotten a lecture on managing money more maturely. Assclown family.

Sunday was spent running to two different automotive stores, all the while having to keep pouring water into the Chevy. R and his son in law were working on the red car and they needed a liter of this high dollar oil treatment. I fetched it. Then had to go back cos I got the wrong stuff. (Yeah, give me crap about being a dumb girl, how about next time I ask one of them to go get me maxi pads, in a blue package…Vague much????)  Then they sent me to the other auto store all the way at the opposite end of town while I sweated bullets over the radiator situation and the gas gauge. The store wouldn’t refund the money on the part they wanted returned. So I had to break into the money I had put back for my kid’s Easter basket and spend it on that crap. Take it all the way back to R.

The drivers in this town are hybrids of a cockweasel and an assclown. Cockweaselassclowns. Nearly got hit cos everyone is on their phone or suffering a cranial rectal inversion.

Monday I was expected to come to the shop and keep him company, ya know, working off the fees for his time and automotive work. I had to go get insurance first. Weirdly, the agency is in the building my old dentist used. I had root canal flashbacks cos I remember that window view from all the appointments and work I had done there.

Then I had to go to the shop and wait while he piddle poked and worked a little, then finally  he pulled the stereo from the brown car. (Fuck leaving a perfectly good Pioneer in a car most likely to end up in a demo derby.) Then I finally got to go get my red car. I just parked the brown one at mom’s and walked to where Ursula lives.

I was reminded, painfully, that I need to quit smoking so I can breathe and I am out of shape. (LIES! Round is a shape!)  I took this picture. Not sure why. Maybe to prove this is about as exciting as the scenery here is.

creekProof that I am a jinx: I was walking away so my back was turned and I didn’t see it but I heard a screech and a smash and glanced back…Two car accident had just happened. I can’t even go for a walk without bad shit happening!

I got to Jezebel finally, huffing and puffing, of course. (But I love my ciggies….) I put the plates on her and felt like an independent adult for the first time in two years. One thing to drive mommy’s car at sixteen. In your forties…It sucks. I finally have my very own car now.

And then I got in it. The door panels are held on with protruding screws. There’s no blower motor so no heat or air, some genius yanked all that to install some thud thud thud speakers then removed those and fucked things up worse. It has some sort of death rattle R thinks he can fix. THINKS. Oh and I also have no thermostat, the formers fucked that up as well cos ya know, the stereo trumps all. (Big car stereos are just making up for small penises and girls with daddy issues.) There’s an exhaust leak, which is pretty unpleasant with the windows down. Oh but wait, the driver’s side window doesn’t roll down. That has to be fixed, too, which means tearing the door panel and all that open. And the auto locks? Ha, I don’t have a button, I have a hole in the door with this gob of wires and plastic piece I can click on. Now normally I wouldn’t give a fuck. But this car has that child protection thing where the doors won’t open while the car is running unless you pop them. Made dropping my kid off yesterday comical as neither of us could figure out how to get out of the stupid car.

Now for two hundred bucks, I don’t expect to be getting a chariot. But this is ridiculous. It’s noisy from inside, rides like traveling on brick road, it loses power and won’t go for a minute or two no matter how hard I hit accelerate. (My old Grand Am did the same thing, shifted oddly and cut out like that and I told R and he insisted the problem was the driver, so if the transmission on this one blows up…I am screaming in his face I TOLD YOU SOMETHING WAS FUCKING WRONG.

The body needs some work, which is the least of my concern but already I’ve had people ask me how I managed to “break” a car I just got. Um…It was purchased this way.

0305161609-01Now if I wanna go miss mary sunshine…It has four good tires worth the two hundred bucks alone. That’s literally it’s only saving grace except for having a cup holder. Oh, well, work in progress. Point A to Point B is all I need.

Yesterday I had to go to public aid and fill out the food stamp paperwork since I missed the deadline. The woman saw where I am now getting child support and my stomach went wonky. I think they’re gonna deny the benefits or cut them to the point of not helping much. I am aware how vapid that sounds but feeding and clothing and school trips and pictures and all…That costs money, too. If I lose the food stamps, the child support will then be for food and I am gonna be worse off than I started out. Would it kill the system to just work in my favor? Lots of people are in the same boat. Then you get hosers who shouldn’t even be getting help and they squander and misuse it…GRRR.

Frankly, I wish they’d just enact a policy where to get benefits you have to work and they assign you the job. Cos my bipolar resume got me only two nibbles when I was stable for a few months and felt well enough to work…I’m not lazy. Just unstable. Fuck you, bipolar.

So yeah…digressing. I went to the shop yesterday as being his “friend” and listening to him rant earned me the service of him installing the Pioneer stereo in the red car. (Mind you, I didn’t pay for that Pioneer, it came with my old Grand Am, I would never ever spend that much money on a stereo for home or car.) I figure, ok, I am being shallow wanting the stereo put in, but the car is so noisy I need something to distract me from its death rattles so my nerves don’t fry.

Last night was my kid’s spring music concert. Oh, yeah, after the last few days, that was just what I wanted. To drive six miles out of my way and sit in a packed auditorium. Oh and my daughter invited my mom so I had to pick her up. From the moment she got in the red car, she began to complain. “I can’t believe your dad bought this piece of shit….I smell exhaust….This thing rides rough…It’s noisy…That exhaust is going to kill Spook…This isn’t safe to drive..” On and on she went, to the point I was so rattled I missed my turn and went half a mile out my way before realizing I’d missed the turn to the auditorium. So I had to turn around and then she yells that I pulled out in front of someone (I had plenty of time) and she was having heart palpitations…

The program was cute. I was both insulted and relieved that someone mom knows has a kid in class with mine so she was there and sat and talked to mom. Of course, I tried to do the polite social thing and participate so mom wouldn’t accuse me of being stuck up…Once again, outside looking in, cos what could I possibly contribute to a conversation….

I was proud of my kid, the show was cute, but getting my mom out of the car and getting home never felt so good….

I was gonna watch a movie but wait, my internet still keeps going up and down. Since last week’s tornado touchdown nearby service has been absolute shit.

R came over. Pointed out my internet is shitty and I need to call them. These people don’t realize how hard it is for my anxiety ridden ass to make a simple call at times. I tend to avoid that which causes me to panic for as long as I can.

To top my night off…we were watching some Red  Dwarf and Rimmer was ordering up what the new Holly should look/act like…And the ever sensitive R said, “I don’t care if they’re blond or fat or dumb, as long as they’re not bipolar.”

YES. He said this. To me. Knowing I am bipolar.

Fuck a big fancy bag of poisonous snakes.

So…that’s the last few days of my shitty life. If you made it this far…Have a funny video.

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2 Responses to “Quicksilver Quicksand”

  1. andrewsaltarelli Says:

    four in the morning. disappointed in myself still up. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=qQkBeOisNM0

    that’s all right. Who am i, mmm, mmm, mmmm….

    I’ll tell you tmmw.

    Meanwhile will think i will go thrash thru some forests.

  2. OMG that video is funny!

    It’s just terrible the things R says and does. Someone needs to force him into one of those corporate sensitivity trainings.

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