Archive for May, 2019

Brainwashed: Wait a minute, I’m not Lazy or Immature, I am disabled!

Posted in depression with tags , , , , , on May 31, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

It just hit me when I had a wallowing moment over not being able to get hired for the most menial helper monkey job…I am not stable and ready to work, there’s just no choice since the law won’t hold the deadbeat responsible for Spook. I contribute every cent of my disability to her upbringing, he contributes nothing. Yet I am the one everyone comes down on for not doing well enough, for not being a great provider, for not being happy go lucky and kissing my kid’s butt. All these critics repeating the same things year after year after year…has amounted to brainwashing. I know myself, I know my situation, and I know I am trying with all my might. So how do these idgets get under my skin and in my head to convince me I just need ‘grow up and stop being lazy’?

How does anyone get into our head?

There is rarely ever a concious choice where any of us say, “Hey, this person is really rude, but their word is gospel, I truly am a bad person because they think so.”

Nor is there a moment where we relinquish control and allow them permission to belittle us or make us view ourselves in a negative light.

These people who critique those with mental health disabilities are not salvageable. They lack the emotional intelligence to open their mind to the fact that, if we are indeed on disability for our mental health issue, it isn’t because they hand it out easily. It’s because we spent years and years fighting, filling out mountains of paperwork, and failing job after job and racking up bad references due to our instability. By the time our disability claim is ‘won’, most of us have burned through relationships, rental agreements, credit card debt during manic episodes…What we experience isn’t ‘lightweight disability’. It destroys every facet of our lives. And if you are unfortunate enough to also have an anxiety and a panic disorder, which are NOT considered legal disabilities, well, life becomes a minefield and everywhere you step blows up. It’s just a matter of how big the explosion.

Society on a whole needs to be chastised for these ignorant views on mental health disability. They are harsh and cruel and they simply cannot grasp the reality of it.

Disability, by legal definition, is any condition that hinders the ability to lead a productive life due to mental deficits and support oneself reliably.

I still can barely drive in traffic and spend 3/4 of my life in a depressive state because of seasonal depression and geographical location.

I am not cured. I will likely never be cured. Best I can hope for are periods of remission, but even that is going to require the job interview-like process of looking for a better psych center. (Seriously, here, they ‘interview’ you then call you back to tell you if they will take your case on or not, just like winning a job!)

What I am NOT is immature or lazy. I was left a single disabled mom 8 years ago by a man who didn’t care if our child had food after he was gone. He just assumed ‘the system’ would cover his income loss and take care of her. But you know what? Other than food and medical, it’s been all me the whole time. Me knowing how to eek blood from financial stones, me who goes second hand every chance I get, me who has to be the bad guy and tell my kid, no, I can’t even afford five bucks for the book fair, hun. If I were immature or lazy, I’d have walked out like he did. Instead I am still here every day, trying to be a decent mom, trying to love my child and encourage her and support her and make her feel safe. None of which would be done by a lazy or immature person.

So I reiterate…how do these assholes get into our heads?

It’s kinda like how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop…we may never know.

Little Bo Beep Has Lost Her Sleep…And Her Sheep

Posted in anxiety disorders, insomnia with tags , , , , , on May 31, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I truly thought I was in for good night’s sleep because I’ve been sleeping so poorly due to interruptions. I was tired and in bed as soon as my kid went down at 8 p.m. I was drained. But instead I slept 3 hours and woke from 11 p.m. to 4 a.m. It was frustrating as hell. I was tossing, turning, growling, groaning. It is maddening and when you can’t get your over the counter meds to kick in and you can’t slow your brain down because you have to ration your precious sane maker anti anxiety pills…I was ready to take a sledgehammer to something. I took 9 extra mg melatonin. Nothing. 150 mg antihistamine. Nothing. So I sat up and watched some Major Crimes and kept laying down, trying to kickstart my body’s ‘muscle memory’ of winding down to sleep when I start counting backwards in odd numbers from 1000.

Fail.

I finally broke and broke a .50 Xanax in half. It slowed my mind eventually.

Then I started to nod off…And my desktop speakers are SO good, every time there was gunfire or explosions on the TV show, I bolted upright in a dead panic, thinking I forgot to turn off the gas and just blew up the house. This happened 2 or 3 times before I said, oh, forget it, and swapped out my sound machine as background noise. Thundering rainstorm is my soother. Eventually, I slept. Until about 7:45 when the cats started yowling and walking on my face to demand food.

Now it’s not yet 10 a.m. and I am somewhere between anxious but lethargic cos I did not get enough restorative sleep. I am running on fumes here and it’s gone ruin the engine at some point. Seriously, if we viewed our bodies and minds the way we do our cars and did maintenance that way to keep ourselves healthy and not in danger of destruction, we’d all be better off. It’s not as simple as seeing a GP once a year for a check up. Self care, like auto maintenance, is a day to day thing. The one time you slack off could well be like running your car out of oil and destroying the engine. You would never do that to a car yet we think nothing of running ourselves that ragged, and everyone comments how we look tired (or shitty, as my family says), why aren’t we sleeping.

Insomnia, bitches. I wish I could explain it to some but they are such simple minds and so stubborn, nothing I say can make them back down off their ignorant view that insomnia is a choice. I am about fed up being surrounded by people like this from my nurse to my family. I would sleep 8 glorious hours every day if it were a choice. Because then I’d wake up and face the day, fresh and renewed and ready to tackle the obstacle course. Instead, I tread water day after day, waiting for bed time and the promise of even 4 hours of unbroken sleep. If you have ever literally treaded water, then you know how literally exhausting it gets over time. The mind is the same way, eventually it gives out and you go under.

In my life, no one cares. That’s not a sob story, it’s fact. I may have some fringe-lier friends who care but in my real life…no one gives a damn. And I am ready to Z Whack me a bunch of ignorant people.

Because while I can round up all my sheep, do a headcount, and go back to start…I can never catch up on lost sleep and run at a perpetual detriment.

But yeah, it is a mystery why I am so fucking negative and grumpy. TOTAL. FUCKING. MYSTERY.

Flash Functioning-Basic Existence With Anxiety and Panic Disorders

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , , , , on May 30, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I have briefly touched on how living in Podunk (population 400) has negatively impacted my ability to function ‘out there’ because we used to live ‘in town’ (population 19,000) I always called it the ‘petri dish’ cos my kid was healthy as long as I kept her at home, but she got sick ‘out there’ amongst dish dwellers. Now the difference between in town and out of town has become a glaring reality, nothing to do with affect or simple dislike of the place. It is making me regress in my progress (oxymoron?) toward getting out of my comfort zone and handling the anxiety or panic attacks.

We were gone a half hour today before someone pulled out in front of me and I was flipping them off and yelling ass trash motherfucker. (Yeah, yeah, mom of the year I ain’t.) But it’s frightening, knowing you have to drive for yourself as well as others, who are so reckless and distracted. By the time we left town, FOUR cars had pulled out in front of me in like, bumper to bumper seconds. One slowed reflex from me and I’d backend them and those are always the latter driver’s fault.

In town…I had a mini meltdown and felt like a cornered animal. We had to change pharmacies and the new one couldn’t get the scripts approved through insurance, then it was the computer not cooperating, and by the time I needed to swipe my card and enter my PIN, I was so anxious and distracted by the pharmacy/customer/drive through/noise activity…I had to enter my phone number and PIN four times cos I kept messing up. I got downright testy and said, “This was supposed to be a seamless transition between pharmacies, not a brawl over what is covered or not.” Then I had to confess the cashier was going too fast for me (while a line developed) for me to enter the necessary numbers and signatures. My God, if I am that scrambled on my own, what am I gonna be like on a clock? And that fucking nurse screwed up my scripts again, renewing my Wellbutrin and prescribing 150 when 300 is the max she will give. So I was stuck with that copay but had to battle insurance to get the Lamitcal 25s covered cos her and the student said it would help my depression and anxiety…I told her I was on 250 at one point and it did not good and she completely disregarded that.

If you scream in a doctor’s office, does anyone hear you? Not at this office. They all just hmm and haw and tell you that you have no choice.

I think she’s trying to overdose me so she can claim I don’t take my meds responsibly. There hasn’t been ONE month since she took over in October that she hasn’t fucked up my scripts by renewing stuff I wasn’t even being prescribed anymore. What am I supposed to think? And how can I not be concerned that she isn’t doing this for other patients who aren’t as med savvy as I am? What if she has others with a worse IQ deficit who just take what is prescribed without questioning it? I went over her head, it did no good. I talk to the staff, they think it’s just about scoring more benzos.

No one is listening.

And meanwhile, I am having such trouble with basic existence, getting totally scattered and panicked. She does not care and she is supposed to be there for me through my difficulties and I made my anxiety clear. I am tired of being disregarded.

I am tired of being scared to leave the house. Scared to drive outside of Armpit.

Just tired, cos I don’t ever get more than 3 hours of solid sleep.

This nurse could not care less.

And the fact that her carelessness could poison someone who isn’t hyper aware…

She is dangerous. I understand she’s the only option they really have since no one wants to work there so they are basically kissing her incompetent ass…But how much is too much? How long before I am justified in wanting better?

It has gotten so bad, I have a friend willing to send me a gas card if I can find an out of town doctor who will see me. Yeah, it is THAT fucking bad.

I’ve done self checks, awareness of myself, soul searching, playing devil’s advocate…

This nurse is bad medicine. And no one should have to endure that, insured or not. No one should be fully medicated and terrified to leave the house and drive. No one.

Regressing

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , on May 30, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I am halfway down the rabbit hole again. Last week, prior to a certain appointment, I was in a better place. But sure, situational stuff like BAD PSYCH NURSES! drag you down. That and money problems and good things that require money to be done, family idgets in your face insulting your entire existence…Sure, lots to be depressed about. But that stuff was all there last week. The difference is my mood cycle, plus said psych nurse cutting my Wellbutrin in half. She said there would be no withdrawal, but she failed to cover how suddenly my mood would just fall out from under me at half dose. She probably never thought it, because the books don’t cover it.
(Oh for the love of God there is a show on saying bullied people are bullied cos they have victim mentality and bring it on themselves, how does this empower anyone to stand up for themselves when the anti bullying campaign is being a bully??????) (Oh, and Roosevelt woman, people can make you feel inferior especially without your permission BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE ASSHOLES.)

I’m heading for a meltdown of epic proportions, obviously, between situation, cycle, and of course, the rioting hormonal oompa loompas.

I am rapid cycling bipolar two. So my moods never truly stay static more than a few days. The professionals confuse this with borderline personality disorder highs and lows, but honestly, it is nothing like that. It doesn’t matter if things are going fabulously, when my cycle rapidly churns, so does my mood. Plus hormones and situation and anxiety. It’s a neverending fluid situation of its own, subject to change without notice. I never even see it coming, not the extremes, anyway. I can feel myself slipping and I tell the doctors and say, hey, this might be time to get aggressive with treatment…and they ignore me and before I know it, I am down the rabbit hole and the meds are powerless against it because these people won’t treat an aggressive disorder aggressively. I’m the only loser, they get paid no matter what. I am the one who loses, and suffers, for their lack of aggressive treatment and willingness to believe the individual patient if it is at odds with everything the books have taught and every other patient ever treated.

Until I get someone who plays fair and treats me as an individual, I will never be content, that is a fact. Much like taking a C rate doctor with a great beside manner over an A rate one with a shitty manner, I would prefer a less than stellar doctor or nurse as long as they LISTEN to me. I don’t expect my word to be gospel but it should carry a hell of a lot more weight with my provider than it currently does.

OOps, I just sent my kid into tear meltdown cos I told her I am about to call and cancel her camp experience based on inability to pay for gas to get her there. I’ve reworked the income ten different ways and blood just don’t come from a stone. I hate to think she took a spot some other kid could easily attend 5 days a week cos they’re local and can get there no problems. I did not mean to upset her, of course, I am gonna send her. Even if I can only afford to take her a couple of days a week. I just feel guilty if days will be wasted where I can’t get her to town and back. Thus the necessary fundraiser which is in day two with one share and no donations. Five dollars gets here there for one day, $7 will get her home for one day. So less than $40 a week until I can find work.

Someone has to hire me for something, right? Though I am not convinced since the neighbor girl applied after me and still got hired at fast food hell. I was vaguely amused though when they tried to get her to take on my brother’s schedule so she could haul him to work. I bet she purposely requested a different shift cos no one wants to ride with him caterwalling the entire way. He can’t carry a tune in his hands, ffs, but he won’t believe it. His Facebook profile even claims he is a guitarist and singer. And my dad lets him delude himself that way. I am all for dreams but they have to have some reality to them. I could become a famous author simply because I can write creatively. I don’t go around saying I am one, though, just cos I write. But even my worst writing is better than his best singing and that is no joke. I sound mean but when someone is so bad at something you are embarrassed for them, well, is it really not a kindness trying to get them to stop making an ass of themselves? But ya know what, good for him, not letting our dad quash his dreams the way he did for me and my sister.

I had a fitful night’s sleep and dreaded waking up before 7 a.m. But the sunlight was stabbing through the curtains and once it hits my retinas, I am awake. I hate it. Had I had more melatonin I probably would have taken one and gotten another hour of sleep. I am waking before my kid, this is unacceptable.

Now to prop up my mood and try to get through the next few days. I am waiting for the hormonal tides to break and the physical discomfort to alleviate. Then maybe I can think more clearly. Right now all I can focus on is shit that makes me angry, like calling and declaring I AM NEVER EVER COMING BACK TO SEE THAT SHITTY PSYCH NURSE. Oh how I fantasize about that.

The good sign is that they are showing commercials for a reboot of the old game show, Press Your Luck, and seeing the whammy happily stealing money and being snarky has me rolling with glee. It’s kind of an 80’s state of mind thing, I had a rough go of it, but pop culture gave me so many escapes that I can still remember the 80’s as a great time to grow up.

That’s the difference between then and now. Prior to brain damage I was more resilient. After, it’s like each depressive cycle burns new paths in my brain and I can’t bounce back the way I once could. Very frustrating. But hey as long as animated game show character can make me smile and laugh and cheer…

I’m down, but I’m not out yet.

Not A Happy Camper

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression, health with tags , , , , , on May 29, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Well, we went live with our fundraiser to at least raise gas money so Spook can attend day camp in town on a scholarship and we have not received a single donation. We got one share, and we appreciate it. But seriously, guys, i know I’m always the whiny fundraiser queen but it isn’t for lack of trying. I just got an email closing out my application for a maid at a hotel in town, they filled it. I WAS UP AGAINST 52 OTHER APPLICANTS, and those were just the on line ones, not including people who walked in and filled out paper apps. Not to mention I have never worked as a maid (I barely made it 3 mights as a hotel auditor, but I was working another job full time so I can’t say I was able to give it my all) so it’s pretty obvious with no experience and no current references, I was not getting that job. Much like the camp counselor gig, the home health care gigs, the insurance customer advocate gig…I’m not a hot property, I get it. My applied for and rejected folder is starting to resemble a word file in page numbers.

But I am still trying and I am only asking for marginal help FOR MY KID TO ATTEND CAMP. They feed and snack them, it’s all scholarship. I am just responsible for gas to get her there and pick her up. That’s going to be about 40 miles every day Mon-Fri and if I can’t get her there, then I have to live with the guilt of knowing I let my kid take up the spot some other well deserving child could have had cos their parents live in town and can afford to drive them there. It’s about $38 a week for that many trips to town. If I lived in town, it would not be an issue. But since I have to take her to town, leave her, come home then drive all the way back…God, what a pain in the ass.

What would make more sense if is a funraiser to get us the hell out of Armpit but last year when we had 2 weeks to move and not a dime to do it, we raised $110. I’ve got enough failure going on without inviting more. It brings me down, for sure. I feel like with so many people competing for so few jobs and me not having current references, I am never going to get a job, never going to be able to work and get us out of this hellmouth, away from my dad’s toxicity…And with a job, I might be able to afford a decent damn psychiatrist who’s primary concern would be my well being and not pleasing an authority figure with how few medications being prescribed…

Right now, all I can focus on because I am wiped out is Spook and day camp. She is sooo excited. I told my dad about it and he bitched that I will be wasting gas, racking up miles on my car and wearing down the tires, and besides, I don’t work so why do I need a camp to babysit my kid…and it wasn’t ever about that, I just get tired of never being able to afford to take her anywhere the entire summer. This is her chance to return to school and start 5th grade with some great memories. I want that for her, so badly. She is my only focus right now.

Her and the other half of the yard I can’t work myself up to do because the humidity makes me choke on sinus drainage. And the only reason the yard worries me isn’t appearance or worry about the landlord, it’s because I can ‘t handle my dad attacking me yet again on a matter I’ve made clear is none of his business but he’s too much of a dick to butt out.

Spook is the priority now, so don’t do it for me, do it for her. And if cash makes you uneasy, they do have prepaid gift cards for use only at gas stations for fuel only. That’s what we’re trying to raise money for, 11 weeks times about $38 a week for fuel. And if I could just get us out of this ass trash place, it wouldn’t be an issue but I’m drained. I applied for a factory job I am unqualified for because it was the only new listing and guess how many others applied..66. NO ONE CAN SAY I AM NOT TRYING. I want out of here more than I have ever wanted anything before, I think. Because my dad stressing me out and the fuel and $70 minimum every month whether we use a drop of water a month….If I could get us back to town, we could afford rent, power, insurance, water, trash, internet, and still be able to buy food, feed the cats (who are now on day 5 without a morsel of crunchy food and my dad damn well knows it but can’t even take pity on them cos he’s so busy holding a grudge against me), put gas in the car…because in town we could apply for subsidized housing thus lower rent thus saving money to put towards all else…

I’m freaking out, time to shut it down. God, I really don’t miss R and his political tirades but I sometimes sure do miss him showing up with some Mangoritas to shut up the voices in my head.

Help for Spook to go to daycamp, please, even a share is amazing.

https://www.gofundme.com/summer-camp-and-vacation-fundraiser

Direct deposit without big fees is paypal (and it is instantaneous, fundraiser takes days to pay out) and please note that it is for us both, not just for me. My kid and i are a package deal.

paypal.me/MorgueAndSpook

Our video explaining things, very short clip.

Merci.

I’m gonna go freak out and panic now.

Space Invaded

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , , , on May 28, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Dad and stepmonster came to swap out the air conditioners today. I found her cryptonite to get her out of my space fast. Gain wax melts. She was gagging and coughing and had to run outside, then my dad started griping, like I specifically did it to offend her. It’s a scent that heightens my mood and lowers my anxiety, I find it calming. And I pay the rent and power so fuck ’em. It was awkward having them in my space. This is safe sacred space I don’t even like invaded by my kid’s little friends. Having my negative family invade it feels like an assault of some sort. But it was a necessary evil as the old unit that came with the house was screwed down and nailed in and it disintegrated in rust at the bottom plus it weighed about a hundred pounds so no way was anyone civilized getting that thing yanked. Their redneckery was needed. Now we have the newer unit that works well, though it is smaller. I think what I like most is that it has a timer so I can turn if off at night but have it kick on before we get up and also, it dehumidifies. Of course, it was a gift several years back from a friend who was uneasy with the idea of Spook and I smothering in the trailer with no air.

I was really glad when they left. Now I just need to get a big snake to park in the living room in a terrarium and they will NEVER ever set foot in here again. That would be wondermous. It was all I could do not to laugh at my dad’s hypocrisy. He was talking about his ritzy neighbors being nosy and ‘they must have a drone flying over town since they know everyone’s business’. He is constantly remarking how many times my landlord’s son or I make am trip to the gas station or to town. Yet he says he doesn’t give a fuck (he literally put it that way) what any of us are doing. He’s so deluded, it’s almost sad. How people can be so totally unaware of their own quirks is beyond me. Though to me a quirk tends to be harmless, the shit they have going on is anything but harmless. I’m so sick of the racist and homophobic and classist jokes. It’s not funny to anyone but them and some Trump fans, so…no one in their right fucking mind.

I accomplished a lot today except for the lawn. It rained briefly but it was enough to make the grass slippery enough that I almost fell on the concrete, my shoes were so wet, so I said, meh, tomorrow. I folded 5 baskets of laundry, did dishes, cooked, moved furniture, dealt with the assault on my safe space…It’s been a full day and I can go to bed not feeling like shit about myself. Well, sort of.

So I did not get that day camp counselor job, already knew that. I don’t know if it was a consolation prize or what because initially I was told it would be $40-$50 a week for Spook to attend the day camp in town. Today they called and said she got a full scholarship, it runs June 10th, til August, M-F 9-4:30. I can’t afford that kind of gas. But to save my sanity, have time to look for work, and keep her from having a miserable summer, I’ve got to try to find a way to at least float until I get hired somewhere. I really want this for her, and the overnight ‘vacation’. I gave up on the fundraiser when it went 3 weeks without getting a cent and it broke her heart but she wasn’t willing to sacrifice Minecraft time to do social media promotion so…

Now I’m doing it again. I will just post the video and link and I will keep doing it and if it pisses people off or offends or whatever…so be it. If someone can raise thousands to be cryogenically frozen after death, then we can raise a couple grand for daycamp fuel and a brief vacation. Not giving up this time. Because I am going to suck it up and start doing social media. At some point. And hope to hell it’s not a repeat from 11 years ago when it all went to shit and became more harrassment and insults than connections and friendships. It was truly traumatizing.

So…How about you help me spread the word? See. Not asking for a dime there. Just a share. For Spook.

Burned Up, Burned Out, Just Burned

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression, health with tags , , , , , , on May 28, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Good news? Burnout is an official medical diagnosis. Bad news? It only applies to job burn out, not the uber legitimate simply burned out from the struggle of life. Because only a job can burn you out. Not a child who is never pleased, who bellows mom mom mom mommy mom mom constantly, complains incessantly, and on top of it all, dealing with asshole family members, inept psych care, and a deadbeat ex who won’t contribute a dime to his daughter’s existence yet goes around telling everyone what a good man he is…

Nope. No way could anyone legitimately burn out and break down from all that. Only a demeaning or demanding job. Pfft. Utter bullshit.

Well, yesterday was bare minimum functional day. I did what I had to but beyond that, I was just exhausted. Start and stop sleep 7 days a week takes a toll and you get bone tired and don’t even have the excuse of hard work to use. So it leads to self loathing and feeling lazy and then I have plenty of people around me to confirm this is how they view me and round and round we go…

Again, no legit burn out from this, either.

Today I have started a load of laundry, washed dishes, put on clean clothes, and fed my kid a very browned omelette cos Julia Child I am not. Now I have 6 baskets of clothes to fold and put away and a football sized lawn to mow by myself with just a push mower. Yay. My kid has been out of school 4 days and one day she spent with my dad til bedtime yet I am already feeling the strain. To my chagrin, she was glued to me and being so overwhelming, I broke down and let her use my tablet even though she just broke her THIRD one. I am scared she will break mine but it would be taking one for the team, so to speak. She still ain’t getting near my laptop or desktop, computers are sacred. Tablet is newer with more bells and whistles but…I grew up on an actual keyboard, not a touch screen, so this is my wheelhouse. I will leave touch screen tech to her generation though she needs a bloody tablet made by the Tonka Tough toy company, she’s a bloody menace.

I am back to focusing on little more than going to sleep. Thanks for that, psych nurse. She stressed me out with all this talk of taking away the one antidepressant that helps. Now I can’t focus on progress when she’s weaning my dose downward and it’s dragging me down with it. I have searched my soul on this matter, trying to find a way to make it my fault, to make her the good guy, and me the overly demanding mental basketcase. It just isn’t true. She is not a good fit. And not having any options speaks volumes about the psych center, doesn’t it? They can’t get good help, they can’t keep the mediocre help they do get, and on the pegacorn occasion they get a great doc, they can’t keep them either. I can think of only ONE good thing about this current psych nurse and that is at least she stopped the revolving door of providers I was going through. Not by choice, mind you, they lost 3 doctors last year alone. But if I could look forward to an appointment or at least not dread it…That would be worth some instability.

What makes me the maddest is not being treated like an individual. This girl is so young and inexperienced, she thinks the book stuff is gospel and she allows zero room for individuality. That is upsetting. Frankly, it pisses me off. She has been the worst of the bunch on this issue and wow, after 9 providers in 15 years, that is saying something. She is a bad fit. I want to call her filthy names and vent my rage but it won’t help my cause. It only makes me look like the bratty bad guy. And I am not. Not this time, anyway. I can be irrational and unfair but this time…I’m not in the wrong. Maybe she isn’t either. Maybe it’s just a very very bad fucking fit. There, I swore a little, all better.

Um…Nope. Still bone weary and exhausted and burned out. I can’t think of a single positive in the next 3 days. Just more of the same. Wake up, get mommed and I’m bored-to death and more housework and cats that are hungry for actual cat food which I have none of. Today they got ramen. I am doing what I can, I didn’t say I liked it.

Now…chill out and wait for the grass to dry enough so I can mow. Before my dad starts in on me about lowering property values cos my lawn looks shitty. Geeze, he doesn’t even own a property over here and my landlord has never said anything to me about it not being mowed within an hour of a rainstorm making it grow half a inch. My dad is a freak, like Hank Hill, only he doesn’t sell propane and propane accesorries. Still a lawnmower obsessed redneck.

No, I don’t have anything good to say about anyone. It’s called PMS. Everyone should have such a severe case every month and then tell me how nasty I am. This is me holding in the nasty. If I let the real venom out to play…I’d lose all 4 of my regular readers.