I usually can see them coming and usually something happens between them arriving and me seeing them that helps me derail them but I don't see any side roads that a possible help venue might interceede. All I see is straight road and my nervous breakdown coming full speed.
So for a week now, I have been texting and calling my ex to find out when he's going to bring the kids back. I get sent to voicemail and my texts and voicemails are going unanswered. LIke he is full on ignoring me at the moment.
On top of that, my mom has been asking me for two weeks when the kids are coming home and Sunday when she asked I was in a rush, I was running late to work, and I was tired so what came out of my mouth was probably something that should have stayed in my head. "I don't know, mom, that's a question you should be asking Randy, not me." Then she made a comment about school supplies and again, something that was much safer wandering around in my head found the mouth door and I said "I'm not a total disgrace of a mom, I got school supplies." As if that shit cake doesn't have enough layers then she laid in about the uniforms again. For the five hundred and ninety seventh time I told her, Olivia will wear the green shirts that Kayla wore two years ago and that Jovaughn wore two years before that. What iI got again was, "Olivia is not going to want to wear that." and "She always gets hand me downs."
First of all, I may sound like a horrible parent here but I don't honestly give a good goddamn what Olivia wants to wear. It's a school uniform for Chrissake. Yes, I know they will be big on her but right now she will either wear them or wear them. These are her only two options until I can get to a store to buy her more. As for her always getting hand me downs. She's the last child in a set of three. This is her lot in life as it is for all youngest children. At some point in their lives more than half of their clothing was worn by someone else. and considering I have to buy a new fucking color every school year because Ranson Middle would rather color code their students than learn them damn names I don't see why I should break my already cracked and leaking bank on brand new shirts that will have nobody to wear them after this school year is over. So forgive me if I don't give a crap what she wants to wear.
So last night, I came home and for the second day in a row my house smelled like someone took a massive shit and didn't flush and I was determined to find the smell this time. My nose led me to the garage where I discovered that when I went in the chest freezer on the 11th to give my mom food because she had none, I didn't close the lid. Yesterday was the 18th. For a solid week now, the freezer has been open. Over $100 in food has been molding and rotting for a week. This was the smell. So I closed the lid, taped the bitch shut and aired the garage. Since it's a chest freezer that was third hand when I got it, and this was my fault and my fault only, I chalked it up to a simple careless mistake perpetrated by Dammit Dette and went to look up new chest freezers online. I was totally not worried about it of the loss of food that had probably been frozen well past it's sell by date anyway. Why cry over spilt milk, you know?
I still hadn't drained the bullshit tolerance pool when I talked to my mom again last night. I probably should have. It has gotten to where if I don't call her, she posts it on my facebook for EVERYONE to see usually in the form of "Where are you? Why haven't you called me?" Gee thanks for making everyone on Facebook think I never call my mom. I speak to you once or twice A DAY forgive me if that once or twice wasn't on your time. I have a job now I can't use my phone at work and I try not to use it driving and these days, I'm kinda doing one, either, or both at the same time. When I get home I usually have enough thought in my head to lock the door and set the alarm before I pass out in my bed.
But I digress... Like I was saying, I didn't drain the bullshit tolerance pool before I called her last night and she informed me that she had called Randy and surprise surprise he picked up the phone for her. And they had a very lengthy conversation. He even told her that he was planning to bring the kids back on Saturday. I work on Saturday from one to ten. He either needs to be here before twelve or after ten. But he doesn't call me and hasn't called me so he doesn't know this. My mother then suggested in that "i know how to run your life better than you do because you're acting like a toddler" voice that maybe I should call him and let him know my hours.
Yeah cause calling and texting him has been working so well for me for the past week.
Again, I should have drained the bullshit tolerance pool because thing that should stay in my head began to come out of my mouth like telling her that she comes off as trying to run my life at times and that at times, she acts like I'm still a child. This got me a lecture on being an adult. Because I won't call Randy and volunteer my schedule. He purposefully sends me to voicemail because I "Cause drama and he ignores people who cause drama" (This is what he actually told my mother) I called bull shit on that and the flag was thrown in my face. Some more yelling was screamed and then she said "I'm not telling you that you are acting like a child but you are acting like an asshole. Goodnight." and BOOM. she hung up on me. Whoever said that you can't tell when someone slams the phone down because all cordless phones have an END button was very very wrong. I could feel her punch that end button like she was slapping me in the face, which she probably wanted to at that moment.
Am I wrong? Why do I have to be the adult here? And is it really being childish if I don't feel like calling him again to tell him that I won't be here Saturday when he hasn't even bothered to even send a text and tell me he's going to be here? I mean for fucks sake he told my mom because his balls aren't big enough to call me. Or text me. Hell he could even email it to me. But I'm not being adult?
Man fuck this. I'm done. Like I said, I don't see a detour between my oncoming nervous breakdown and now. So those of you that know me in real life. If you see my pulling away from you, this is your warning. I can't handle anything more right now. And I would rather no one else get hurt in the atomic blast that's about to make landfall.
I want a cigarette right now. I kinda need one. My e-cig isn't doing jack shit.
I have to go to work. I have to pretend to be normal because I need my job.
Tonight is going to so hard I don't think I'm going to make it through it. Stay tuned, bloggers. This may actually be the night I get fired from my dream job.
