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.