Last night was supposed to be an amazing evening.
I'd had a really good day at work. Business was steady, money was decent, banter with co-workers and guests alike was pleasant, and I didn't have any comps, voids, or problem tables. I didn't feel overwhelmed or unprepared once, and was able to support some co-workers when they were in that position and contribute to our success as a team instead of being the one leaning on others, which was a good feeling. I really love working at "Eclecstasy!" After work I stopped at Trader Joe's and got some Ahi steaks and lovely fresh asparagus, and I came home ready to cook a celebratory dinner with Hotter, because The Situation aside, the past week had been full of win (progress on addressing The Situation! A speedy and FREE resolution to the problems my left front crown had been giving me for months! Street-legal vehicle! WHOO!).
Unfortunately, yesterday was also Lefty's birthday, and I did my duty in reminding Hotter to call him, and after Lefty not answering his phone or responding to Hotter's text Hotter received a text from The Wrath ALSO reminding him about Lefty's birthday and finally did get in touch. Apparently Lefty had been "working" with his stepfather, who last we'd heard about it Lefty hated. Lefty explained to Hotter that really their problems had stemmed from the fact that while Lefty was using, his stepfather had tended to catch the brunt of Lefty's mother's feelings over at all, but they talked and worked things out and now the stepfather was the only step-parent Lefty liked. I guess Hotter then asked what was up with that, and apparently Lefty is mad at me for preventing Hotter from drinking after him when Lefty had active Hepatitis during the worst of his heroin-fueled shenanigans five or six years ago.
I. Went. OFF.
Apparently I have no right to feel the way I do, but I kind of feel like Lefty doesn't get to be mad at me for protecting Hotter (who is immune-suppressed due to his transplants) from diseases Lefty picked up via needle. The first years of Hotter's and my relationship were majorly overshadowed by Lefty's drug usage. Weekends were put off or rescheduled if he was expected to be arrested or had a court date, the timing of our wedding was planned around first his eighteenth birthday and then his incarceration schedule, his needs have contributed to some of Hotter's and my worst fights as a married couple...I realize that it's Hotter and not Lefty I am actually mad at, here. It's Hotter's handling of Lefty's bullshit that has been hard on me more than it's been Lefty's actual bullshit. I get all of that. But the unfairness of Lefty's remark about how he and his OTHER step-parent were cool now that Lefty understood his bullshit had made the other step-parent's life hard set me off. It brought every feeling of being unfairly picked on by the universe I have (and there are a LOT of those feelings in my head) screaming to the forefront, and instead of having a nice evening with Hotter I ended up drinking a LOT of wine, rage-cooking a lovely meal that we ate in silence, rage-cleaning the rabbit pens, and being told that I was ruining our child-free weekend.
And then I woke up at four a.m. scratching myself raw because I was covered from head to toe in huge, angry hives. It actually looked less like hives and more like I had a total-body sunburn with occasional white speckling. I was THISCLOSE to going to the emergency room and begging for steroids, and health insurance and money be damned, but finally after I took WAY more Benadryl than is generally recommended and spent half an hour shivering in a cool shower things settled down. I hadn't eaten anything new or unusual, the pattern of the hives didn't point toward a contact reaction of any kind (they were everywhere, not just on exposed skin), there are no new soaps, lotions, or detergents in my life...I kind of think it was stress. My body has this way of taking me out at the knees when I'm trying to get through some shit; my long-time therapist of many years ago suggested that since I shrink from strong displays of negative emotions they find a way to manifest in the physical, and I certainly have a lot of negative emotions right now. The Situation has the potential to wreck every single aspect of my existence, and renders problems with teeth and cars and money and even in-laws laughable by comparison, but that doesn't mean that those other things don't suck, too, and I'm tired of coping.
The problem with that, of course, is that I don't really have any other option right now.
* The MFA Minivan is still not doing well. I suspect it's the transmission, and as such will be providing comfort care only; I think D is just about shot, but 1 and 2 work okay so I'm getting around (I hate automatic transmissions, HAAAATE). To add insult to injury, I have to go to the DMV today for some paperwork relating to the freaking thing.
* Yesterday at the dentist we confirmed once again that the younger two MFA Children have very syndrome-y teeth (extremely delayed dentition, defective enamel). The hygeinist actually gave me a small heart attack by coming out to tell me they needed an extra x-ray of Little Child's mouth (she had started the appointment by telling me he wasn't due for any); his lateral incisors have been missing for several weeks now with no sign of permanent ones emerging, and they weren't able to feel the permanent ones up in his gums so were wondering if he, you know, HAD those. Fortunately the permanent teeth showed up on x-ray; they're nowhere near coming in and will likely take their sweet time but they're there. PHEW! Middly had some pitting of the crappy enamel on a molar that will turn into a cavity if we don't address it, so next week I'm taking him and Little Child both in for sealants.
* After the dentist, I picked up a late-in shift at work despite my cold and made decent money even after tipping the bar and runner according to the formula we use and tipping my busser $25 (a bit more than protocol dictated but he saved my arse when I was busy and I am generous with the bussers when they do that because obviously). So that was good.
* Eclecstasy continues to warm the cockles of my black little heart; there's a certain job there that is very tedious and involves repeating the same simple, two-second task for five hours straight. It doesn't pay much and the servers and bussers hate it when we have to take a turn at it because of that and the tedium. I pointed out to Management that this would be an ideal job for a developmentally disabled adult and that there are local organizations that supply workers with special needs and assign them job coaches to help get them up to speed. Yesterday we had a new team-member, a man with Down Syndrome who was delighted to take on the task and tackled it with a smile. Yay, Eclecstasy!
* Friday, 10/3 will be a pivotal day re: The Situation, so...we'll see.
* MFA Dentist continues to be the Best Dentist Ever; his office was technically closed today, but he came and met me there bright and early, and recemented my front crown in a labcoat over a t-shirt and basketball shorts so that I could get to work on time. Yay!
* I woke up with a horribly sore throat that was the first symptom of a brand-new cold. Boooooo.
* Over the course of today's double shift, I made one dollar more than was necessary to prevent anything from bouncing this week what with my having diverted All The Money toward addressing The Situation. Yay, Eclecstasy! I continue to love it there, and not just because of the money.
* The Situation still looms large. Boo :(
* I have tomorrow off, because the younger two MFA Children have dental appointments right around shift-change time at Eclecstasy, so I get to sleep in and generally take it easy, which will hopefully help me shake this cold. Yay!
* The MFA Minivan sounded sicker than usual today, and I am kind of worried about it. Booooo.
And how are all of YOU doing?
Today, before I went to work, Hotter asked me out of the blue how much I thought I spent in an average month on alcohol. "Fifteen dollars?" I said yes, most of the time it's probably that much, and he launched into a description of this computer game subscription thingy he wants, with the obvious inference I was supposed to make being that if I was spending that much per month on something for myself then I ought to be willing to let him do the same.
I cut him off at the knees, obviously, because Jesus Christ, man, the van cost $625 to get back on the road and I haven't paid the electric bill or the phone bill for September yet and were you not THERE at the dentist on Monday??? Then Big Child brought it to my attention that Bumpus has a goopy eye that is probably infected, and wanted to take him to the vet and I told him we'd watch it for a day or two and see. He kept pushing, and I finally snapped and broke my big rule of not discussing money with kids and told him I hadn't gone to the doctor my own self for a kidney and chest infection that could've killed me because of money and while I'd found a way to get myself the medicine I needed and be okay and would do the same for Bumpus, if I was willing to wait on medical attention for my own self for a major issue then Bumpus was going to have to do the same with his goopy eye.
I went to work and it was slow (by Eclecstasy standards), and I agonized over whether to spend $2.87 to get myself something to eat or not (that is how much a side of mashed potatoes is after the employee discount; it's the cheapest GF thing on the menu) and was disappointed with the money I made in the end, and then I came home and lost my shit. And told Hotter I couldn't fucking believe him, with the freaking game subscription thing. "Do you just not pay attention?!?" He said we were always broke and we always found a way to be okay. I said yes but we are in a state of emergency, WHY would you do that? He said "well you were certainly ready to go out and get a bottle of wine the other night," and I pointed out that I had been stopped by the van being dead and hadn't spent any money on anything for myself since then except some generic Cipro, some phenazopyridine, and a bottle of store-brand cough syrup. He then went off on a tirade about how rarely he tries to spend our money...
...and I realized that he really just didn't get it, that this must be a brain damage thing, because he was legit pissed and had NO FUCKING REASON TO BE WHATSOEVER and apparently no grasp on our financial situation, either. And that made me feel even more alone in all of this and hopeless than I already did, and I cried.
Posted on September 19, 2014 at 02:24 AM in actual conversations, anger shoes, Big Child, department of revenue, doctor, doctor, it hurts when I go like this..., Hotter, mama, my minivan, myself, terrible, horrible, no-good very bad days, well bless their hearts | Permalink | Comments (1)
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I just wanted to let y'all know I'm not quite dead yet, and I actually feel a bit better already.
Mind you, I still feel pretty gnarly; I had to take first Big Child and then Hotter to the dentist today (at two separate times), and had to nap in between to be able to make it to the second appointment...it's like I'm feeble but okay for an hour or two and then start getting that drifting, echo-y, "you are going to hit the dirt" feeling back again. I'm guessing that the stress and grueling hours finally caught up to me and my body is just kind of done at the moment. I'm definitely better today than yesterday though, and no longer appear to be losing much blood, so there's that.
I still almost fainted when they told me how much dental work Hotter needs ($625 worth urgently, for the curious, and another $4,000 or so "pretty soon" but not in a manner likely to cause infection, so that will have to wait until I get on Eclecstasy's insurance in about eight more months). For those of you new to the saga or who may have forgotten, it's not his fault or anything, he just threw up so much due to gastroparesis before his transplants that his teeth are a hot mess. And we can't ignore them, because a dental infection in him could get ugly fast with the transplant-related immune suppression. So I asked them to pick the MOST urgent thing and they said it's two of the fillings, which will be $350, and I scheduled an appointment for him to get those done late next week although I have no freaking clue how I'll make it happen. I have to, so I'll figure something out.
As for Big Child, one of the double-decker canines fell out on its own a couple of days ago, and the other was so loose today that MFA Dentist said he could probably nip it out without even using any anesthetic and it wouldn't really hurt. Big Child freaked out though, and MFA Dentist said it wasn't worth a "procedure" so he's giving the kid three weeks to wiggle it loose (at the end of which, if it is still hanging on, we'll have to talk sedation options since Big Child is scared silly and way too big for the bear-hugger). Other than that, Big Child's adult molars have the enamel issue most people with our connective tissue disease suffer from and will need to be sealed at the next appointment. Big Child claimed to feel "really out of it from the drugs" after his appointment, but the strongest thing they used today was a flouride treatment so...yeah. Back to school he went!
Now if you'll excuse me, the cat needs my help getting comfy for a nap.
So last night I had a fever/chills thing going on, and was worried that maybe my chest infection had turned into pneumonia. The good news is, I don't think I have pneumonia! The bad news is, I woke up with crippling back pain, was like "WTF DID I DO???" and then it alllll made sense when I started peeing what looked like straight blood at work and having bladder spasms. This was bad for two reasons: peeing blood is not generally associated with winning at life and also we wear white pants at Eclecstasy. That plus the cough was just NO FUCKING BUENO. Plus as the day wore on and I tiptoed around with a wad of TP stuffed in my pants several co-workers did double-takes and asked me if I was feeling okay. In other words, the wheels fell off and my body was like "fuuuuuck youuuuu." I couldn't tell if I was dizzy because of the amount of blood I was losing (I doubt it, it always looks like more than it is and given that I don't have a period to contend with I can probably spare some hemoglobin, but...it looks bad) or because I was so damn sick, but I finally asked my boss if I could have fifteen minutes to make a couple of medically-necessary phone calls and paged the doctor on call for my GP. Their recording giving the on-call number specifically stated that on-call physicians would not phone in any prescriptions including antibiotics (which kind of seems to defeat the purpose of an on-call physician if you ask me, because otherwise what can they do besides tell you to go to the ER or suck it up until business hours?), but I figured the worst they could do was say no. Fortunately when I gave a rather minimalistic overview of my symptoms (I left out the fever and back pain and said it was just a tiny bit of blood) and said I felt like it was silly to go to the ER for a UTI but was pretty miserable, the on-call doctor grudgingly said he'd phone in an antibiotic and something for bladder spasms. VICTORY! Given my current uninsured state there was no way in hell the ER was feasible, or even an office visit. Three cheers for merciful on-call doctors! And also for very understanding bosses (the Big Boss himself covered my section for me while I sorted out the rx issue, and asked me if I was okay and offered to let me go home if I needed to, but I said I thought I could tough it out).
It turns out that was a tad overly-optimistic of me, and I did end up paying one of the early-outs $20 to close for me so I could leave an hour and a half early to go and get the prescriptions filled and die in the comfort of home. I was worried the meds would be unattainably expensive, but Cipro hath gone generic (cue choir of angels!) and the phenazopyridine was also gratifyingly inexpensive (the two together were less than $50!), and perhaps the Cipro will also kill whatever is lurking in my chest and this will turn out to have been serendipitous! There certainly isn't any way in hell I could've talked anyone into phoning something in for the chest infection, so I WIN!
Okay, or else mayyyybe I'm a little delirious. In any case I am off work tomorrow and hoping that a day of rest, a ton of cranberry juice, and antibiotics will have me feisty and ready to take on the world again by Wednesday at the very latest.
If the universe would stop smiting me for a bit now that would be fabulous.
And how are all of YOU?
* I picked the MFA Minivan up this morning, and when I got to the shop (chauffeured by MFA Mechanic's teenaged son, which is freaking weird given that I've known that kid since he was Middly's age!) a mechanic and an auto parts guy and a couple of other random dudes were gathered around a box lined with packing material exclaiming over it and scratching their heads. In that box? Was my (former) alternator. Apparently they don't usually catch on fire and/or melt, and mine was not actually connected by a wire. "It was just arcing in there! Your minivan is magic," one of them informed me. That's one word for the freaking thing...
* There is a special place in hell for people who tip $10 on $265. Not only is it a lot of work waiting on a party of ten, but when you stiff your server like that you are making him or her pay for the privilege of serving you, because he or she has to tip out the bar, food runner, and busser based on sales, not gratuity. If you are that guy? I hope you choke.
* Is there any way to tell whether or not you have pneumonia, without a chest x-ray or actual medical attention? I can't shake this cough, and it seems to be getting wetter and more vigorous over time. My ribs hurt from freaking coughing!
* My ankle is KILLING ME. It had gotten a little better, but today a co-worker used far too much force to fling open the door of a walk-in and in the process knocked me to the right, causing me to land heavily on the bad ankle. THANKS, CO-WORKER!
* After today's double shift, I really don't want to go and do it again tomorrow. I still love working at Eclecstasy IN GENERAL, but I'm getting a little Eclecstasy'd out.
* I say "in general" because there are a handful of people at Eclecstasy who desperately need to fuck off. I don't have a nemesis there, which is nice, but I can easily name five people off the top of my head who need to split an economy-sized bag of dicks amongst themselves.
* Thank you SO very much to E.L.
* I think I forgot to take my Pristiq and Synthroid this morning. In fact, I hope I did because today has been unusually bleak, and obnoxious people, financial ruin, sickness and exhaustion notwithstanding, I do not usually feel so picked on by life.
* How are all of YOU?
Posted on September 14, 2014 at 02:43 AM in anger shoes, blogosphere, bullets from inside my head, department of revenue, doctor, doctor, it hurts when I go like this..., ignorance breeds crowdsourcing, mama, my minivan, myself, terrible, horrible, no-good very bad days, well bless their hearts | Permalink | Comments (2)
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* I have a summer cold from HELL, and no voice. Luckily I've only been on call at work, and haven't had to go in, but tomorrow I have a regular shift and need to be there!
* This is complicated by the fact that the MFA Minivan is dead in the driveway. It was having some kind of odd seizure this morning that Hotter noticed when he was walking by; it was locking and unlocking all of the locks nonstop (which is crazy because the power locks don't even WORK when you try to, you know, USE THEM). He dragged me out to show me, and I was like BABY. She is an unpapered, inspection-needing, 90% rusted-out, steel-belts-showing-in-the-tires, battery-corroded-so-badly-we-probably-couldn't-change-it-if-we-tried, windshield-wiper-held-on-with-a-paperclip, 4,000 miles over due for an oil change AMERICAN VEHICLE with nearly 250,000 miles on her! If as part of her vehicular Alzheimer's she wants to lock and unlock her doors then not only is that fine by me but YOU WATCH YOUR TONE and DON'T MAKE HER FEEL SELF-CONSCIOUS ABOUT IT! Then I gave the minivan double finger-guns and said "who's a good van? WHO'S A GOOD VAN! YOU ARE!" Evidently she wasn't fooled by my attempts at placating her, or else Hotter was right about the locks eventually wearing down the battery.
* And that may go down in history as The Last Time Hotter Was Right, because he lost his fucking mind earlier tonight. The XY likes to set the kids up to complain about various things; Big Child is apparently having a hard time making friends in 8th grade and was told by the kids in his Home Ec class that he smells funny. Instead of giving him a quick sniff-test (clothes smell like soap, body smells like Axe) and then explaining that teenagers are assholes, the XY said that this is because our entire house (which he has not been inside) smells funny, and Big Child ought to tell us to clean it more. Which, Big Child having Asperger's, is exactly what he came home and did, and Big Child's excuse in the confrontation that ensued is that he is thirteen and has Asperger's. Hotter HAD no excuse to sink to the level of yelling and swearing at a child, even if said child is physically larger than he is. Yes, my ex is The Lord Of The Douche and runs mindgames on the kids. Yes, it's irritating to have a thirteen-year-old tell you your house smells funny and you need to clean it better, and not even be able to see where my ex-husband's hand goes up his arse to move his mouth, BELIEVE ME I KNOW THIS. However, if I do not get to lose my shit and yell and swear about this, neither does anyone else in the house, and if you cannot listen to reason I will absolutely put you in time out until you can calm the eff down, whether you are eight or forty-six.
* It's remarkable the salubrious effect a closed door has on manly comportment. When I first dragged Hotter outside to finish our discussion out of minor earshot he was all "YOU PEOPLE DON'T HELP ME KEEP THE HOUSE CLEAN AND I HAVE HAD IT I WAS NOT YELLING AND YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, THE LAW DOWN HERE WOULDN'T CARE IF I--" and then when he went to follow me back inside and discovered himself to be locked out there he went pretty quickly to "I'll apologize to Big Child, I loooove you, I'll love you FOREVER and I am SO SORRY FOR YELLING." I finally decided I had to let him back in sooner or later and opened the door, and shortly Hotter began screaming. Because it turned out that while he was having his back-porch change of heart a five-inch slug had crawled up his pants-leg. I informed him coolly that that looked to me like a personal problem, and went to make a wine-run but at that point discovered that the MFA Minivan's battery was dead. So it was an evening of nobody getting what they wanted! Except for the XY! Yay, strife!
* No, not really. Boo, strife. And boo to you too, Wednesday. NEXT!
Posted on September 10, 2014 at 10:48 PM in actual conversations, anger shoes, bullets from inside my head, department of revenue, doctor, doctor, it hurts when I go like this..., facing the PDDemons, Hotter, mama, my minivan, myself, terrible, horrible, no-good very bad days, well bless their hearts | Permalink | Comments (1)
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* My cold did indeed depart without medical intervention, which delighted me to no end considering that I am, as of 9/1, once again without medical insurance (dammit). Whoo!
* Thanks to my having picked up an extra shift today, I am 99.9% certain that I have now paid back all MFA Microlenders for their generous help in getting my family through the training period for The New Job. That said, I suck with numbers, and while I starred all donations marked "loan" in Gmail and paid those back, I am paranoid that I have overlooked someone who will then think I am a deadbeat, hate my guts, and join forces with Stalky in slandering my good name across the innernets. IF YOU LOANED ME MONEY AND DID NOT GET A REFUND VIA PAYPAL, PLEASE COMMENT OR E-MAIL ME AND LET ME KNOW SO THAT I CAN PAY YOU BACK! I don't want to miss anyone, and have you think I just suck. I promise it won't be awkward! Speak now or forever hold your peace!
* We think one of the pullets laid an egg. They're in with the older girls now (all three of them--Honeybadger died a couple of weeks ago of some mysterious chicken ailment--she just laid down one day and never got up; I moved her to a pen by herself so the others wouldn't bother her and she ate and drank for a couple of days then just keeled over dead without ever getting up again), and Hotter collected a very bright blue egg that didn't appear to be the work of Maria or Blacktop (Dottie lays brown eggs so it definitely wasn't her). Yay, egg!
* We're getting lettuce and mesclun greens from the garden, as well as kale and zucchini and sweet potato greens and turnip greens. I'm the only one who eats most of that, but yay, greens! I've been hitting the naproxen pretty hard of late and bleeding like a stuck pig from even the smallest of cuts, so leafy greens are just what the doctor ordered!
* The XY took the boys this weekend for the first time in a loooong while. I am hoping that this means his house is rebuilt (after the "Jewish Lightning" of last April) and his weekend visitation will resume, because the food cost of having the boys home all the time ALONE is killing us (plus he's been telling them for weeks now that the house is done and they can come and see it, but then it turns out there's been a delay and he doesn't take them). Who knows, though. We'll see I guess.
* I'm so damn tired, y'all. Days of back-to-back doubles have taken their toll, and tomorrow's another one.
* How are all of YOU?