MFA Mama

angry

   I am kind of bunched up over here. One of my children did something really amazing, and garnered recognition for it, and I'd like very much to brag ALL OVER THE PLACE about that, but I don't know how comfortable I am anymore with talking about my kids at ALL given that it might interest The Narcissist. I don't usually look at Sitemeter, but today I did and it confirmed what I'd already suspected: her family is reading, and more of them than just the one who commented yesterday (no, I did not PUBLISH said comment, so don't bother looking).

   Speaking of that comment, the more I think about it the more it PISSES ME OFF (cue Hotter going "well don't think about it then!" as if that solves anything) (seriously, has he MET me?). I don't know whether it speaks more to poor reading comprehension or mental illness that ANYONE could read this here blog and think I would have the means, much less the desire, to hop on a cross-country flight to wring my hands over the person who has caused me more grief and physical harm than any other (including my ex-husband, which is saying something). And while I am trying, REALLY trying, to see it as "they don't get it, they thought they were doing me a favor" rather than "THIS IS AN ACT OF MOTHERFUCKING WAR," I'm getting angrier and angrier about the whole thing. Because I can't really assign any good or benevolent motive to anyone who could come here and read about my life and think dropping a vaguely-worded mindfuck like this in my lap was an okay thing to do right now. I mean REALLY. The very least they could have done was say what KIND of sick, as the medical history of biological family is useful information, but no.

   Five minutes of detective work on my part revealed that The Narcissist IS actually hospitalized and in the ICU, so about the nicest thing I can say is that the vaguely-worded mindfuck was not an outright lie.

   I think I'm going to go outside and push the reel-mower (thank you, Jessica!) with Belleruth Naparstek on loop until I either keel over or am less full of The Rage. And then I'm going to suck it up, put on a happy face, and take my amazing kid out to celebrate his huge achievement with the P.F. Chang's gift card I've been saving for a rainy day. Because The Narcissist doesn't get to ruin so much as a single day for my children, no matter WHAT she goes and does.

struggling

   I am not quite sure what is going on, but I feel like I quit taking Pristiq or something (I didn't). Hotter got annoyed with me last night; he wasn't even out of line really, but I got this jolt of adrenaline that wouldn't go away even after walking three nine-minute miles and then fell the fuck apart and told him I was done. I don't know if I'm just tired of trying to hold everything together, to the point that I'd rather ship Hotter back to his mom, let the XY take the kids from me, and go die under a bridge somewhere and have it OVER with so I can quit dreading it, or maybe I'm not sleeping enough, or it's hormonal...I don't fucking know. Hotter has every right to be disgusted with me today, hell, *I* am. I'm just sick and tired of not being able to get his eye fixed or buy a new lawnmowerso Trashcan Neighbor shuts her yap, and feel like maybe Hotter and the kids and the world would be better off without me, and it sucks. If I had health insurance I'd go see my psychiatrist and ask him for his two cents, but I don't. Maybe losing my job, changing career fields, AGAIN, Hotter losing his fucking mind on me a couple of weeks ago, having something go horribly wrong in my belly, my ex acting more of the fool than usual, AND the daily death by a thousand cuts of flogging an un-airconditioned car that doesn't idle to and from work in the summer heat is collectively too fucking much and this is what anyone would be doing? I don't know. I hate it, though. I'm eating. I'm sleeping. I'm exercising daily. It's not helping.

   I would very much like a vacation from being me, or really a vacation of any kind.

but

   If you don't think it's possible to WALK a nine-minute mile, you've just never been pissed-off enough, and I envy you in general, but I can pretty much guarantee I have a better ass.

heartbroken

   It kind of seems like every time I come on here and say I'm taking a hiatus, I end up having lots to say in the very near future. So I won't say I'm taking a hiatus. I will say that things here are not good, and I don't know how much I'm going to feel like writing for a little bit. My marriage might be over, or else maybe Hotter is having neurological issues, or possibly both. He had a headache for a few days and then the day before yesterday he was kind of a jerk, and then last night it's like he had bet someone fifty bucks he could get me to punch him in the fucking face (if that's the case he lost the bet, but only just barely, and if I had medical insurance and/or stronger bones I probably would've gone for it). He said some things he isn't going to be able take back even if he decides he wants to, and called me some unprintable names, and hurt my feelings really badly.I finally had some wine and started yelling right back at him, which didn't make me feel any better but did make him add "alcoholic" to the list of things he was calling me, and said some things I didn't entirely mean. I'm not proud. I'm also not sure it really matters whether he actually meant everything he said or was not himself due to something neurological, because if his neurological issues are going to make him periodically exploit what he knows about me, my past, and my deepest insecurities to hurt me as much as possible then I don't know that I can hang with that. So it comes down to my either having married an(other) irreparable asshole, or being one myself for holding a medical condition against someone who (usually) loves me. Either way I'm sleeping on the couch, which makes my neck hurt, and suffering a serious case of heartbreak, and it really sucks.

settled

   I did not even PRETEND to like my step-son's last major girlfriend, Pedophyllis. They broke up shortly after announcing their engagement, and now he has a new one, who is at least his age. Hotter and I were poking around on the Facespace today trying to figure out when Lefty is due to get out of jail (yes, that's about the most reliable means of finding out such things at our disposal, since The Wrath threw him out of the house shortly before his incarceration and he doesn't have his own phone), and I saw where The New Girl had posted a picture of a Holocaust survivor on Lefty's timeline with the words "I want to make a lampshade out of your skin, because you light up my life" emblazoned across it.

   So it's settled, I don't care for this one either.

only in America

   This morning I took my last generic Synthroid tablet, and so after today's temp gig I stopped at Kroger prepared to fork over every penny I had to my name to refill that, because my thyroid is a lazy asshole and hypothyroidism is no fun. I've never really gone without medical insurance; I went straight from my parents' policy to a policy through my first "real job" to the XY's policy to an individual one, and from there to The Hotel California's employee plan. I was worried, because even though I know that Synthroid is a cheap drug to fill generically, I figured a doctor or pharmacist's idea of "cheap" and mine would probably be in two entirely different ballparks.

   So you can imagine how relieved I was to find that paying out of pocket for generic Synthroid was entirely within our budget.

   I went from relieved to pissed, however, when I realized that I'd been paying $11 MORE each month for the same medication WITH insurance.

   Only in America.

in which WellsFargo kicks us while we're down

   I deposited $300 in cash yesterday, which I withdrew from Hotter's individual account where his disability checks go (why? Because he likes for us to pay $12 in fees every month to withdraw the money from an out-of-state bank at a local ATM, it makes him happy somewhere deep in his soul, to the point that he's willing to fight with me EVERY SINGLE MONTH ABOUT IT), to cover checks I wrote yesterday, and today? Wellsfucking Fargo charged us FOUR overdraft fees, because apparently cash isn't good enough for them and the deposit is still marked as "pending" in their system.
   So I just had the pleasure of breaking down in ugly snotty tears on the phone with Wells Fargo, who initially told me it wasn't their problem, then amended that to "well, how about we refund HALF?" Because hey, great, then Hotter will only reject ONE donor organ and I can maybe feed 1.5 of my kids! I asked them what they were going to do next, come to my house and take my dog? They finally decided to refund three of the four $35 fees, which I guess is good, but when $35 is a third of your total net worth and you don't have any hope of anything coming in any time soon that fucking hurts.
   I hate Wells Fargo. HATE them. I swear, every time I think it can't get any worse, they bend us over and screw us, no lube. And as soon as it stops raining here I'm going to walk to the nearest branch office (yeah, the Beater is...not so good) and close the damn account.
   I...am done. I'm just done. This whole situation is just hopeless. 

yay and boo of the day

YAY: Guess who has two tits and a job interview next week? Okay well technically I have the tits now, but...damn. I ruined it, didn't I?

BOO: Not only did the Hotel California not give me the six hours of PTO I requested a good week before the parting of the ways on my last paycheck, but they also deducted the full cost of two weeks' benefits from my last paycheck...which was dated four days AFTER my last day of employment with them. Fuckers. That kind of took me all the way back down from "Temp Agency #2! Job Interview! WHOO TITS!" to "I'm going to die alone, in a cardboard box under a bridge."

   What are YOUR yays and boos from today?

back

   Okay, so here is the deal now that I am done freaking out about it/going on hiatus.

   I no longer work for the erstwhile Job #1. It's absolutely fucking outrageous how that came to pass, so outrageous in fact that I think I'd better not run my mouth about it on the record, even pseudonymously. There is rather a lot of money at stake in certain...investigations...and I'm going to let that all shake out before I comment in any way. There are stories to tell though, oh yes there are.

   I have filed for Unemployment, but am hoping to have another job in place before I'd receive anything through that (there's a brief waiting period). I have one more paycheck coming, and a couple of bucks on the one after that (but nothing to write home about), and I've picked up work for this Saturday and next Saturday via Temp Agency #1. We're okay for the rent, the electricity, groceries for the next week, and the next bottle of Prograf. After that, I don't know. Hotter's eye surgery, sadly, is canceled, and I have NO idea how I'll afford my Pristiq (Synthroid and Symbicort are cheap and I can go without Mirapex and Nexium, although I'd prefer not to obviously).

   To add to my enjoyment of the above, the MFA Beater has been suffering grave mechanical issues, and was briefly unfuckingdriveable. I almost called out on my last day of work because of it, but managed to flog it downtown. Immediately after the shit hit the fan, I picked up a couple of applications within walking distance of the Hotel California (as we will start calling my now-previous employer), since I was already downtown, then barely got the fucking thing home. In a way this was good, as the workout I got (equivalent to a Stairmaster on low--think LOTS of revving the gas and stomping the clutch) kept me from getting emotional in any way until I was home. Today Hotter took a ratchet set and his feelings outside and rendered the Beater functional again by the skin of its teeth, so that's good.

   What else? Bumpus ran away. He slipped past Big Child, ran outside as if to greet the XY, who was here picking the kids up for dinner visitation, and just kept going. He was MIA for two hours. MICROCHIP YOUR PETS, Y'ALL. Now he's back, mysteriously damp and in need of a bath, and I have fond memories of being screamed at by my ex-husband on my front lawn to mull over when I wake up from tonight's round of nightmares in a cold sweat (yeah, HIIIII ANXIETY DREAMS).

   I'm trying to look on the bright side here. While the circumstances suck, I'm reconnecting with my kids in ways I haven't been able to in months and months due to work obligations. We're eating meals together as a family again, and thanks to the garden and beasts of Squatter Workshop, so far everyone/thing in the household has had enough to eat. If I were capable of timetravel I'd go back and kiss myself, with TONGUE, for getting rabbits. One fluffy-fryer only yields as much human-grade meat as a large commercial chicken breast, but its' giblets and trimmed skeleton yield three days' worth of meat for Isis, who would otherwise be subsisting on supermarket eggs about now (our four geriatric hens only produce enough backyard eggs for human consumption--we keep "dog eggs" in the fridge and crack one into each bowl of kibble we serve Bumpus to encourage him to eat more and help keep weight on him) given that she's a speshul preshus snowflake who's allergic to grains (including rice--WTF, ISIS?). So that's good. And finally, while I will miss those amazing benefits forever, working for the Hotel California was starting to take a toll on my mental health, and had been for a while. I won't go so far as to say I'm glad their underhandedness and illegal machinations forced a parting of the ways, but I'll admit to a certain amount of relief that it's OVER.

   Also, while life is sucking a fat one currently, I have some truly amazing friends, who have plied me with funny animal pictures and ratchet extensions, YA lit for my Kindle via Amazon and grocery money via PayPal (ain't technology grand?), sound advice and commiseration. Thanks for being awesome, everyone. Y'all know who you are.

   This too shall pass, like a kidney stone, slow and painful. ONWARD!

   And how are all of YOU?

 

don't stop believin'

   Sometimes the universe goes out of its way to show you that nothing is impossible.

   Like yesterday? I didn't think I could hate certain things at work and/or my ex-husband more, but today? I TOTALLY HATE THEM BOTH MORE THAN YESTERDAY. My hate grew three sizes!

   It's really awe-inspiring. So much so that I went out back and ate a TON of honey, warm and dribbly from the comb. So yeah, universe. Stick THAT in your pipe and smoke it!