I've been away for a long time

I'm going to be honest. I have been a very good girl social media wise because at first I was trying to show someone that not everything in my life has to go online for people who know me to know.  I was in a way, trying to show him that I'm really not one of those people that shares everything.  Then it turned into me thinking that my facebook friends really don't need to know every detail of my life and even that evolved into, Fuck it, I don't have time to be on Facebook typing out whats wrong or what I feel or what's happening.  

Like seriously, I haven't had the time to spend online in awhile now.  And when I have the time I would much rather prefer to be with actual friends or in my bed.  I love my online friends but I'm sorry sometimes, you come way below my other priorities.  And I don't mean that to sound cruel because I'm sure that when your lives get hectic, I might be the last thing you think about.  So yeah...

I haven't posted my thoughts on the recent cop on black killings.  I haven't posted my thoughts on the church burnings nor the South Carolina church shooting.  I may have posted one thought on Sandra dying in Texas.  Partly because honestly, it's not worth any rant I might have.  Who's listening anyway?

But the last few 48 hours of my life.  They are something I need to blog about so that hopefully in a year when Timehop reminds me of this I will see it and remember that I need for it not to happen ever again.

I've blogged about the girl from work that annoys the shit out of me on random basises.  She had actually not annoyed me for a good while now.  Not so much that it stayed on my mind.  Saturday she did.  I was talking with my new boss about how they should open a chain of Howie's over where I live and how it would bring in the other side of the map where we don't deliver to.  In fact it would connect to the Sugar creek store.  I did however say to him that if they ever do open a Howies out here while I am still with the company, Sugar creek or wherever will lose me because yes, I will want to work five minutes away from my house.  F looked at me (mind you she was not in the conversation AT ALL) and said, "So what I hear is that you want to be selfish and inconvenience everyone else so that you will be getting what you want."  I actually didn't understand where she was coming from so I asked how did she figure I would be inconveniencing anyone.  She says because she likes her 20 minute drive and I was talking about adding at least 20 more minutes to her commute.  She thought I was talking about them moving the Sugar creek store to be closer to my house. 

It has long been a pet peeve of mine people who jump in a conversation before they are one, invited to do so or two, know what the conversation is about.  She jumped in with both feet and didn't know anything about what I was saying.  And she got defensive.  And stayed defensive throughout the day sniping at me in anyway she could.  I'm sorry but I had daydreams of docking her, throwing her in a pan and running her through the oven.  I would never do it because that would be... well.. uh... that would be murder... borderline torturous murder but still murder... and I don't wanna go to jail. Jail is bad.  I look horrible in orange.  Jail is NOT like Orange is the New Black.  Jail is bad.  No murder.  Just daydreams.

Then today, my car finally decided that since I won't listen to it's random chokes and small deaths it was going to stage a quite dramatic death today.  It died three or four times before I got to work today on the way to work.  One of those time I pulled off on the side of 485.  That time was probably where I ran over something that sliced my already balding tire.  By the time it sat in the parking lot at work for an hour... it was flat.  And dead.  Very dead.

But I wasn't actually upset about it because I know whats wrong and it's a cheap fix really.  While I was dealing with it, I had a customer come into the store that I dread seeing everytime he comes in.  Every food service person has this customer.  They all hate this customer.  He says he wants his usual.  Then he changes it.  He says yes when you repeat his order back to him to confirm it because you KNOW he's going to find fault in the final product which he does and he manages to make you feel two feet tall in the process.

Today was the first time he tried that shit on me.  It did not go well for him.

He ordered a medium Philly cheese steak pizza with no mushrooms, 2x the steak, and 2x the provolone.  He wanted the green pepper and the onion.  I repeated this back to him three times.  I did so in front of my manager, J.  He confirmed it.  I made it, I knew he was going to find fault with it and I was prepared. (Every time he comes in he does this and he always gets the messed up pizza as well as the free remake to take with him when he leaves.  I know this is his endgame.) He said I messed it up.  I told him point blank that I confirmed his order three times and he said yes.  He told me I was wrong.  Even though I had the power in my numbers to say, "Yes sir, I will remake that for free" I refused.  I called J who CONFIRMED that he heard the man confirm the order as I read it back to him.  The customer then told both of us that we were wrong and he did not say that he wanted green peppers.  Then he said he didn't like my attitude and wanted a refund because at this point it was clear by my non movement towards the makeline to remake his pizza that he wasn't getting a remake without serious fight from me.  J refunded his money but he wasn't done yet.  He somewhat politely (and I hate when angry customers suddenly get polite because it means they are about to rip you a new one) asked if he could tell me something and I said yes.  He said he overheard that I was having problems with my car and he didn't appreciate that I was taking my frustration out on him.  In my profession the image I present to the customer was everything and tonight my image was almost enough for him to take his business elsewhere (pretty sure that my blue contacted eyes were screaming "fine please do so you pompous asshat! Don't let the door hit you on the way out!)  

When he was finished I asked him if I could respond.  He should have said no.  But he said yes.  I told him that I have been here at lease three times that he has done this to other members of the staff, changing his order and making them feel like they messed up when he does this just to get a free pizza out of it and he was not going to do it to me because I know what he said, I had a witness to what he said and that my attitude had nothing to do with my car and had everything to do with how I was being treated by him.  I was calm, I didn't yell, I didn't cuss, I just said it and I also let him know that everytime he walks out of here with two pizzas and tonight he was not going to do it.  he was not going to make me feel two feet tall to achieve his endgame.  He actually tried to come back with a response but I cut him off that tie and said "No, you had your say and I responded, it was over and there would be no more said on the subject and I hoped that he had a good night from then on there.  Goodbye."

And I walked away.  

I'm part of the management team now.  I can't lose my cool but I also can't let people walk all over me.  I have been doing it way too much lately.  People are systematically taking pieces of me from me that I can't afford to lose anymore.  It's time for me to stop always being the one that says yes and I'm sorry.  It's time for me to say no.  Not No and I'm sorry, just no.  Enough is too much and I just can't and won't do it anymore.

I get up every morning and tell myself that today is a new day and I am me and no one is going to change who I am and now, now it's time for me to believe and enforce that so that's what I'm doing.  If I lose a few friends or acquaintances in the process, I'm sorry but part of knowing someone is to accept them as they are and the changes that comes with the world they live in shaping them.  This is one of my changes.  If you cannot handle it, I'm pretty sure that you know where the door is.

I need to go to bed.  IT's been a long weekend and I really want it to end now.  I never thought I would say this, but I am so glad it's Monday!

So... yeah...

I've been a bad girl... or maybe I haven't...  I really only use this blog when I have something that I need to get off my chest and need for it to go away.  I haven't been here in probably over a month which means that I haven't had any stress that I needed to blog off...

Okay, that's a flat out lie.  I have had stress.  A fair bit of it.  Most of it caused by one person.  She will remain nameless for the sake of this blog.

It's all good. though, I fixed my facebook so that she can't see anything about me, not even when I'm online and then I created her about twelve times in the Sims and killed her in some pretty nice ways.  Let's see, I trapped her in a pool and took away the ladder.  She drowned to death.  Then I put her in a 2x2 room with now windows or doors and no toilet.  She got hungry, pissed herself and then died.  I hit her with a falling satellite, I hit her with lightning, I set her on fire and I gave her pneumonia and wouldn't let her rest.  For that death I actually plead with death for her return which made us like best friends and then I broke the computer, took away her mechanical skills and made her fix it.  She electrocuted herself.  I even gave her an honorable death by flies.  I think the most awesome was I had her go on vacation, meet a random guy ( I couldn't make her actual fiancee... I like him and for what I had planned...eh...) She fell madly deeply in love and married him and then I killed her with fright.  He left her tombstone in the middle of a vacant lot.  She haunted no one.

You know... seeing all that in writing, I realize I might have a few anger problems.  Just a few.  Very small ones.

But the most important thing is that I'm good to work with her again.  Something about killing off a fiction representation of someone that you are extremely pissed off at that really makes you less angry at them.

So in other news, I am now a shift leader at work.  Tonight I had my first mock run of closing the store.  I am 80% sure that I won't burn the store down tomorrow on my first actual closing.

Okay 79.9999%....

I'll be fine, I got it.  I have a while bunch of people that believe in me and are willing to help if I need it.  I'm all good.

So really nothing else is new.

I started smoking again.  I admit that hoping that it will make me stop but since stress has decided to camp out so have the cigs.  They aren't budging and I'm not pushing.

Also, I really need to purge myself of my attraction to this really hot guy that I have fallen into the Friendzone with.  And not even the really awesome friendzone.  I could totally handle being in the friends with benefits zone.  But how do I say that to him?  God help me I tried to say it.  He came over before the movie the other day and promptly laid out on my bed and dammit it was all I could do not to just jump on the bed next to him.  I was a good freaking girl.  Dammit Dette.  Dammit dammit dammit.  Now I know why guys hate the friendzone.  Ladies, if you have guys in the friendzone, give them a hand up.  Give them a handjob.  No one deserve to be in the friendzone.  The friendzone sucks.  Period.Eliminate the freaking friendzone and make it the... I don't know... Still friends but you can solve a little problem for me from time to time zone...

I will make myself not like him.  I will make myself not like him.  I will not troll Tinder this Summer... Or maybe I will troll Tinder this summer.  Maybe I will meet a bit of fun... Summer can't be all about work can it?

I'm going to watch an episode of the new Sailor Moon and then go on to bed.  I need to be well rested for tomorrow night.

I will not make the other employees riot.
I will not burn the store down.
I will make it out of there with my sanity.

I will stop saying these stupid as hell affirmations to myself...

Pray for me y'all... Just pray...

Okay so let's recap the past 18 hours...

So yesterday afternoon as I was going out to my car to go to work, I noticed that I heard water going like a sprinkler left on.  It was hot so I let it go and kept on going.  When I got home last night near ten the water was still going and I assumed that the neighbor with the perpetually green yard must have left his sprinkler on into the night.  Didn't think much of it at all, went in the house to find that BOTH of my girls were taking out their braids...  It was ten at night and they weren't done.  They didn't finish until something close to twelve and I had to relax and dry their hair.  So I didn't go to bed until almost two this morning.

At seven ten, Olivia comes in to wake me and make sure I get up because they have the dentist in about twenty minutes.

We will call that Walking Dead: Level Mom.

Of course this picture was taken AFTER I walked outside to hear the water STILL running but this time noticed that the neighbor in the house just slightly down the hill now had a huge puddle for their yard.  The guy with the perpetually green yard lives one house over from them so for him to flood their yard the house between them should have a lake for a yard as well but they don't.  I walk around my house and realize that it's MY water that has been running for I wanna say at least 16 hours now...  Can't wait to see this bill.  Someone had unscrewed my hose and turned the water on at full blast.  I don't know who and I don't know why but if I ever find out.  As me if the cops will be able to hold me off.

Get the girls to the dentist and surprise they are the first people there.  This never happens.  THe woman says that this week is testing that's why it's dead and I'm one of the few parents with school age children who kept their appointments for today.  I asked the girls when their testing ebgan and they said Tuesday so I'm good.  The woman says to me that she called and reminded me about testing and gave me the option to reschedule.

She called me at 8 am.  How many people do I have to tell that I am not one of those people that's up and At 'em at 8 am.  Having a conversation with me at 8 am will only bite you in the ass.  It won't bite me because I won't remember it and if I was supposed to show up somewhere and you didn't reminds me when you were assured I was coherent, it will bite you.  Trust me that it will never bite me in the ass...

Left the girls to get some food because I was now still only partially awake and my stomach was demanding I feed it.  I went to The McDonald's on Freedom.  Never have I ever been in a more ghetto McD's.  And I have known this place was this ghetto for years now but whatevs...  The woman behind the counter screwed up my order so freaking bad her manager gave me a free sandwich.  This may or may not have been totally because of that since I've known the manager there for about five years now and maybe once every six months she slides me free food when I order.  Whatever.  Then the cashier says to me that she likes my t-shirt (I was wearing the one that says I'm sorry for what I said when I was hungry.  Can be found here.)  BUt just as I'm about to tell her where she can find the tshirt to buy one herself, she says "BUt your boobs are too big to be going without a bra."

It is at this point in the blog that I should point out that I happened into the McD's the one day that Old Men's club had decided to come in and sit ALL ALONG THE BACK WALL for a chat n chew.  no less than 15 old senior men heard her say this since she wasn't exactly quiet.  Also, what appeared to be a Mommy group (Like four young women and a few babies) sitting near the doors.  They all heard this comment.

Sort of wide awake now, I contemplated being the badass New Jersey bitch I really am deep down and giving her about 90% of the anger building inside which was not all her fault but I didn't.  I stared at her.  I may r may not have opened my mouth and closed it a few times but when nothing came out, I just walked away.  Took my food and walked away.  I figure that this was God reaching down and telling me that today was not a good day to go to jail.

Came home and crashed.  Hard.  Got up and went on FB.  One of my friends posted a video of a teacher breaking up a school room fight by taking off his belt and whipping them... View Video here.  I commented and said outright that the teacher was wrong.  As of 2:32 pm on 5-18-15, the comment thread read as such...

The first person called me crazy and the second reply had so many ebonics in it that I'm sure they deserve the beatings they say they got.

Just putting this out there but it's people like this that sometimes make me ashamed to be black because white folks see this shit and they assume ALL blacks talk like this.

As for the teacher, I stick by my guns, I would beat the Hell the Holy and the Future out him for taking off his belt and whipping my child.  End of story.

So this has been my last 18 hours.  I really honestly just want to go back to sleep and make it all neverwas....

I am so very very very over today and it's JUST a quarter to six!

Why?

That's all I want to know.  Just Why?  Why is that when I FINALLY find a happy spot, circumstances have to pull me back down??

So Sunday Morning, my favorite cousin in the entire world passed away.  This was not sudden, it has been expected for awhile.  But still, she was my other mother.  The things a daughter should know that my mother didn't teach me, Floreine did.  And when I didn't learn them fast enough, she whipped me up the stairs.  Yes, you totally read that right, she whipped me up the stairs.  (See I come from a generation that got the bejesus slapped or spanked, or in my case, whipped out of them when they thought they had the right to talk to adults like they were adults when they were still kids.  Today's kids don't know anything about that because now parents get in trouble for smacking, spanking, and whipping... it's called child abuse.  No!  It's call home training and discipline!  Look it up Child protective services!  It's in the freaking Bible.  Spare the rod and spoil the child I.E. Handle that shit while they are young and they won't turn out to be turds as adults!  Sorry... tangent rant...) She was... I mean... they say that cousins are a person's first best friend in life, She was mine.  Part mother, part best friend, all cousin, and all mine.  And she's gone.  She was the one that stood up for me and took my side when I was treated unfairly and believe me I had my fair share of not being treated fairly by the family sometimes.  She was the one that stood by me and said I would get my time to shine and made sure I got it.  She had my back.  She was my Flo Cousin.

So I managed to get Mommy out on the plane yesterday and I was planning to drive out there for the funeral.  Again, this was my Flo Cousin.  I want to be there to say goodbye.  My mother decided that the 15 hour drive would be too much for me.  I don't care.  This is my Flo Cousin.  So Auntie PAt agreed it was too much BUT she offered to fly me out there.  Had it worked perfectly.  I could leave here tomorrow after work and be there by night, get up go to the funeral Thursday and then fly back.  If possible, not even miss work although everyone was cool if I missed Thursday.  My Mom decided, that I would be inconveniencing everyone if I did that.  They are two hours away from the airport so having to drive to get me and bring me to the family then having to drive to take me back the next day.  Looking at putting someone on the road for 8 hours.  Never mind that I could call a cab.  They have flat rates for airports.  Nope, nope, Claudette, you can't go and say goodbye to your favorite cousin because it would be inconvenient for everyone and just to make sure that you understand what I'm saying to you let's throw in "everyone is already down because she's gone, it's not fair to add getting you to the airport to their troubles."

So I'm not going to the funeral.  I'm going to sit here.  I'm going to work.  And on Monday I'm going to pick Mommy up from the airport.

But you want to hear something?  Something HILARIOUS??

Mom didn't want to pay upwards of $175 to kennel her cat for the week she'll be gone so guess who has to leave work in NORTH Charlotte to drive to EAST Charlotte to make sure that the cat has food and water EVERY DAY and scoop out her litter box EVERY DAY (because someone spoils her cat and never let's her crap sit in the litter box for more than 24 hours) and then has to drive home to WEST Charlotte EVERY DAY???  Yeah, me.

So ... in the end, no one gets inconvenienced but me.  The one that is always inconvenienced.   Because yeah... this is how my life works.

And I've held up.  I haven't had my true and real breakdown yet.  I need to.  I really need to.  I have had little cloudbursts where I couldn't hold back the tears but I haven't had the big one yet.  I can't though because I have my kids right now and I hate it when I cry in front of them because they feel like they need to fix it.  No matter what it is, they need to fix it.  You can't fix death.  Even in Harry potter, one of the most magical places ever, you can't fix death.  So no, can't cry in front of the kids.  When I don't have the kids, I'm at work.  Can't cry at work.  Just can't.  Cannot have a complete breakdown at work.  Even if your boss is one of the coolest guys around and one of your best friends who would totally just stand there and hold you while you soaked the hell out of his shirt.  No.  Just can't.  That's work.  Gotta be professional at work.

So I'm not going to get to break.

But I managed to find a place in my mind where I can still function and laugh and joke and be human and this morning my time hop ap on my phone decided to remind me that today was the first anniversary of the day I wen out with John.  Yeah him.  They guy I kinda fucked over but then I really tried to apologize and he treated me like shit and then he went and quit an every single time our paths cross he looks at me like "drop dead in a painful way" because the one time I went to see his roommate I said I didn't want to see him when I should have said the truth was that I can't see him because stupid fucking me still likes him no matter what I do and if he just would smile at me and kiss me again I would so be in his arms and I know this is a stupid horrible run on sentence but I can't help it and yes, I still like him.  I still want him and there's not a damn thing that I can do about it even though when he gives me those drop dead looks a little piece of me dies and spirals away.  Yes, I know I'm a pathetic idiot.  No, I don't know how to fix myself.  If I knew how to fix myself I would.  Do I tell myself I can do so much better than John?  Yes.  Do others tell me I could do som much better than John.  Yes.  Does my brain believe it?  Maybe.  Does my heart?  Hell the fuck no.  If he walked up to me right now and held out his hand and smiled and said "Let's start over." I would hop skip and jump merrily into that trap and never look back.  The fact that I can admit that makes no difference to my heart.  None.

So I went to work and managed to laugh and have a generally good day despite the fact that one year ago today I went out with the man that my heart really does think might have been the love of my life.  It was all good.  Got home and kids hadn't done their chores.  I can deal.  Mother in law texts to ask me if I found a camp for the girls.  I called her (first fucking mistake) And told her no because I don't have custody of them.  Randy does and he's supposed to be taking them to Oklahoma with him because he's to much of a pussy to inform his job that he has ironclad custody of his child during the summer and either they postpone his training or they find a way to send them with him. (Small aside, two years ago, Randy decided that I was a shit mother and he filed with the state and the county to have full time custody of my kids.  He fell through on that but it got put IN WRITING *Which when you put something in writing with the county/state courts, you might as well have chiseled it in stone* that he had custody of them from the day after school ends until two week before school begins.  I am okay with this because for about 90 days, I get to be an adult that doesn't have to worry about getting home to the kids.  I get to actually have a life.)  She says, she thought that I would find a camp and he'd pay for them because he told her that that's what I was going to do wince he can't take with him. (In other words, I have to get up and make sure they get to the camp bus stop and I have to make sure that my work schedule allows for me to pick them up from the bus stop and I have to cook for them and find other stuff for them to do while he gets to spend his days in a classroom and his nights doing whatever the fuck he wants to do. In short, Claudette is still the responsible one that gets to give up the precious little free time she gets... again.)  I told her no.  I legally don't have custody of them.  That Randy does and they if they don't go with him, they will be sitting wherever his new wife Gabby is staring at her all summer because she married him knowing that he had FULL custosy of his kids during the summer.

Insert guilt trip.  Or rather, insert guilt trip attempt.  The only thing that she managed to do was annoy me.  I will not bend on this summer.  He made his bed and now he will lay in it or I will go to the courts and have his custody terminated.

And I am sorry if I sound like a whining little bitch right now but you know what??  I'm tired of being the one that everyone shits on then walks away.  I'm tired.  Plain old fashioned tired.  Why is it that to avoid inconveniencing everyone else I have to bend over backwards, forwards, and sideways?  Why do I have to be the one that takes and takes and takes what everyone else wants to dump on me and deal with it?

What about me?

What. About. ME?

When do I get to say goodbye to my loved ones?  When I get to go out and party without having to come home?  When do I get to meet a guy and have sex with him because I don't have anything or anyone else to think about for that moment in time?  Am I supposed to wait until my last child is over 18 and away at college?  I'm supposed to wait another five years?  Is that how that works?  I'm thirty fucking five and I feel like I'm fifty.  I missed my teens because I had to be the good girl and be with Mommy.  I missed my twenties because I had to be the good Navy wife and good mommy.  Now I'm missing my thirties because I have to be the good daughter and the good single mom.

I seriously just want to run away for a few days.  But I can't.  Because I would be inconveiniencing too many people and that's not what Claudette does.

Claudette needs a fucking lobotomy.

Fuck today.  I'm going to bed.

Oh wait no... I have to go feed the cat.

Fuck.

So quickie....

I'm tired and I'm about to take it down.

Nothing has really changed in my life.  Still no man (I've pretty much given up on that to tell you the truth...), still have an awesome job, and have not yet had a decent night's sleep.

I really honestly thought that blogging about it would help since writing out what's wrong has usually worked in the past but nope. I still feel the bullet, I still feel the car crushing me, and I still wake up shaking, crying, and sweating.  I even told my boss about it and he tried his damndest to convince me that it's just a dream.  by tried to convince me I mean tried to get it into my subconscious mind because I couldn't get past me feeling it.  If I didn't feel it, I would be able to cope a little better.  If I didn't have a constant migraine in the exact spot that the bullet hits my head all the time I might be able to convince myself that this is just a dream.

I have to admit, I am almost down to calling Dr. Patel and asking him for a referral to a psychologist...  I don't know though... This sounds like one of those dreams that gets you locked up for 72 hours on a psyche watch and or a thorazine drip.  The LAST thing I need right now is for medical professionals to think I'm crazy.

Had a bit of a scare yesterday.  My neighbor calls and I missed it so I texted her and said I was at work what was up and she responded with CMP which is call me please so I knew it had to be important.  My next door neighbor got robbed... again.  This is the 3rd time in like three years.  On one hand I am so sorry it happened to her, but on another hand that I am keeping behind my back, I am so glad it wasn't me.  The first time I got robbed, Randy wanted me to move.  The second time I got robbed Randy pretty much demanded I move.  I'm pretty sure if I am unlucky again, he will do what he's been threatening to do and tell the courts that I insist on living in a place that is unsafe for his children.  You scoff.  Yes, he picks and chooses when to act like the concerned dad but the fucker picks and chooses his moments very well.

Sigh... Oh well...  It's time to try and get some sleep.  I wonder how long I will be able to manage to keep my eyes closed this time.  Last night I got about six hours but I got it in 45 minute spurts.

Seriously, I would trade the images in my head for one boring silence anytime...

That's my attempt at being funny.

Goodnight bloggers!!

I should go to bed.

But I just can't make myself lay down.  For the past month or so I have had this recurring dream/nightmare that has either kept my brain awake or woken me from a sound sleep.  I shouldn't let it bother me because I know it's not real but the thing is more than a few times when I have dreams so vivid and recurring, parts of them come true.

It's gotten so bad that it's physically manifesting itself on me now.  At least I think that it is.

The thing is, I keep having a nightmare that I get shot in the head.

Yes, you read that right.  I get shot in the head.  Right behind my left ear.

I've had the dream from so many points of view it's almost like watching a crime drama unfold.  At first I thought it was a story trying to manifest itself in my mind but when I tried to write the images I saw and things I heard, I started to shake.  So violently that I nearly fell out of my chair.

When I see it from my POV, I'm in my car driving on Sugar Creek road just before it turns to Browne road. here in Charlotte.  I'm listening to Becky G's Shower and I'm coming around the bend just past Browne's Ferry when I hear a pop followed by the most intense pain I have ever had in my head.  Worse than almost any migraine so far and I have had some whoppers.  And you would think that that would be where my POV ends, but it doesn't.  I'm alive long enough to feel it when my car veers off of the road into a light pole.  First I feel the horrible shake on top of the pain in my head and slowly a crushing feeling that comes up from my legs until it merges with the pain in my head and it all goes dark and then boom, I'm awake.  Usually in a sweat and more than likely shaking.

When I see it from the shooters POV, and yes I have had that unfortunate happening.  He cocks a shot gun and takes aim.  I can hear his heartbeat which is eerily calm until he sees the wreckage and realizes that instead of scaring me like I think was his intent, he's more than likely caused serious injury.  I'm not sure but I don't even think he realizes I'm dead of that he actually hit me.  I never see more than what feels like five minutes.  I have also felt like I was me in his brain and I kept on screaming to stop that he was going to hit me and I was going to die but it doesn't matter.  He takes aim and shoots.

The most heartbreaking POV is the scariest one of all.  I'm nothing.  Floating above it all but yet somehow able to move around and see faces.  And the face I see scares me so bad.

It's John.  And his face just has this look on it that I can only describe and hurt, anger and complete disinterest combined.

A few weeks ago I was making brownies for a coworker and had some an remembered how much his roommate loved my brownies.  I called and he said come by.  I told him I can't because I don't want to see him.  That's what I said.  I should have said what I really wanted to say was that seeing him probably would have made me shit my pants because I had had the dream from the nothing POV and my own by then.  When I went to take bob the brownies, I already knew that John was the shooter.  

Part of me said that I took Bob the brownies hoping to see him to put my fears to rest that he wouldn't look at me with the hate I saw on his face in my dream and I would be okay.  What the rest of me was thinking by going over there I don't know.  Once I sent the text offering Bob the things I couldn't very well renig....

But then he showed up at work.  For reasons I don't care to explain here not that I know all of them but when he walked down the storefronts towards me I froze.  To those that had no clue about my nightmare I just looked shell shocked to see a man that I care/d so much about but I froze because of the look on his face.  It was the same look.  How do you make your body move when you are scared frozen?

I can't do this anymore.  I have a constant migraine that spreads from the exact spot that I get shot at.  I can't even listen to the song Shower anymore because when she gets to "You light me up inside..." For the last three lunch runs on Wednesday, I have started going down David Cox all the way to Olde Statesville and up to Huntersville because I'm afraid to drive that stretch of road.  If I have a delivery that forces me to drive it, I grip the wheel so hard my knuckles turn white and or I speed through there like the devil himself is on my ass.  One day I'm going to get pulled over and if he stops me right there...

It's bullshit.  I'm mad and scared out of my mind in every conceivable way and blogging about it is my last ditch attempt at making it go away.  It fucking sucks that I have no one to talk to that won't look at me like I'm nuts and tell me to grow up or to just let it go.  If it was that easy to let it go, don't they think I would have???  If it was that easy to admit it was a dream and move on doesn't reason say I should have done so by now???  So far I've made myself say out loud that it's a dream.  I have managed not to show that driving that stretch is affecting me that bad.  I've managed to stay talkative and pretend like nothing is wrong but with me getting little to no and broken sleep, I'm pretty sure that my cracking up is imminent.

Have you ever felt like a porcelain doll with a milion crack already on your face and you realize that it's only a matter of time before everything just falls apart?  I've become that doll.  At this point, I'm waiting for everyone else to see the cracks.  That or just waiting for the day when I shatter.

Sit. Worry.  Wait.  Sit.  Worry.  Wait.

Well, the sleeping pills I've take for tonight are starting to kick in.  Maybe I can manage to stay asleep for more than two hours a click this time.

Please God make this go away.  At the risk of never having another original thought in my head again, just make it all stop.  The voices, the images, the vivid dreams.  I would trade it ALL away for five moments of boring sanity.

Just five minutes.

So it's been awhile... I'm not going to do a serious blog right now...

Things I've Learned From My Children

1. A king size waterbed holds enough water to fill a 2000 sq. foot house 4 inches deep. 

2. If you spray hair spray on dust bunnies and run over them with roller blades, they can ignite. 

3. A 3-year-olds voice is louder than 200 adults in a crowded restaurant. 

4. If you hook a dog leash over a ceiling fan, the motor is not strong enough to rotate a 42 pound boy wearing Batman underwear and a superman cape. It is strong enough, however, if tied to a paint can, to spread paint on all four walls of a 20 by 20 foot room. 

5. You should not throw baseballs up when the ceiling fan is on. When using the ceiling fan as a bat, you have to throw the ball up a few times before you get a hit. A ceiling fan can hit a baseball a long way. 

6. The glass in windows (even double pane) doesn't stop a baseball hit by a ceiling fan. 

7. When you hear the toilet flush and the words "Uh-oh," it's already too late. 

8. Brake fluid mixed with Clorox makes smoke, and lots of it. 

9. A six-year-old can start a fire with a flint rock even though a 36-year-old man says they can only do it in the movies. 

10. Certain Legos will pass through the digestive tract of a four-year-old. 

11. Play Dough and Microwave should never be used in the same sentence. 

12. Super glue is forever. 

13. No matter how much Jell-O you put in a swimming pool you still can't walk on water. 

14. Pool filters do not like Jell-O.

 15. VCR's do not eject PB&J sandwiches even though TV commercials show they do. 

16. Garbage bags do not make good parachutes. 

17. Marbles in gas tanks make lots of noise when driving. 

18. You probably do not want to know what that odor is. 

19. Always look in the oven before you turn it on. Plastic toys do not like ovens. 

20. The fire department in Austin, TX has a 5-minute response time. 

21. The spin cycle on the washing machine does not make earthworms dizzy. 

22. It will however make cats dizzy. 

23. Cats throw up twice their body weight when dizzy. 

24. The mind of a six-year-old is wonderful.

I really and sincerely HATE spring...

I'm serious.  I could so live without this season.  And I mean that literally. Every Spring things come back to life and my lungs decide "Welp, that's it!  Better close up shop!" and it take SUPREME effort to get the sumbishes to work even on a half level.

I live in a constant red haze of headaches because I cough so hard when trying to breathe that it causes my head to feel like it's breaking apart.  I really think the violence of my gasps for breath and coughs are really shaking my brain back and forth and hitting my skull but I'm sure there's some technical explanation for why that can't happen.  It just feels like it is.  My throat is sore because it's constantly dry from hacking up pieces of my defunct lungs.  My nose is raw because I'm blowing it because on top of not being able to breathe, I have allergies.  I suck on my inhaler so much that once, when I was sitting at a stop light, I used it like three times in quick succession and a cop pulled me over because he'd been sitting watching the look of calm that I had after each pump.  He thought I was getting high.  He started pumping my inhaler to make sure that it was albuterol and me sitting there watching my life giving meds being pumped away indiscriminately caused to me to go into an asthma attack and he had to call an emt and explain to them why HE was holding my inhaler while I was having an attack...

I get raped by Spring every year.  Every freaking year and all I can do is bend over and take it like a man.

Oh and one more thing I hate in Spring... Baby freaking birds.  Cheep chirp cheep all morning long.  How's a woman supposed to sleep in when they gather at my window like I'm snow freaking white!??  I swear those things perch on my windowsill and chirp just to annoy me.

I'm not a happy camper bloggers.  I love summer because it's hot and I've recently discovered that I kinda rock shorts, I'm cool with Autumn because finally things are beginning to die.  Yes, I am the gnarled old woman dancing in glee as the birds go away, the leaves fall, and the flowers die.  And OMG! I love winter with a passion because I CAN BREATHE!!  It's too cold for anything to live so I have a ball.

But then I get pneumonia like always and end up in bed feeling like I am dying for a week.

But I can breathe!

Dr. Lewis said that If I got Pneumonia one more time she was going to put me on oxygen.  I've had it about six or seven times.  Once you hit five times having pneumonia you really do lose count.  You read my sob story about last Thanksgiving.  Not this one that just passed but the year before that.  Or was it the year before that? I give up.

Sadly Dr. Lewis is no long at Biddlepoint.  I have a new Doctor who is already pissing me off because he won't refill one of my most vital prescriptions.  He's messing around with my trazodone.  Bad Dr.  Bad!  Very, very bad!  I can't fully blame him, he hasn't been informed that Claudette needs sleep to be sane if if Claudette doesn't get sleep and is not sane, people usually end up crying in a corner.  We are not going to impart this last little bit of info to him unless we have to because the very last thing that Claudette needs right now is a 72 hour lock up in a psych ward.

Claudette is going to stop talking about herself in the first person.  Kamri would love that.  I miss Kamri.  A lot.  I wouldn't even make car jokes if she came by to say hi.  I'd just hug her.

Okay, I'm done complaining.  I have to be up for work tomorrow and I am gonna try and keep up with my Qvar so maybe Spring won't ass rape me this year.  Livy expressed concern for me tonight.  She said I sounded like I was suffocating.  I told her I actually am.  Little by little I am  She stamped her foot and told me no, I couldn't suffocate until I was like a hundred years old...I love my kids!

Goodnight bloggers  I love you!

Stay frosty!

Dooooood!

I am super mom hear me roar!!!  NO really I am an awesome mom and for probably maybe the fifth time since having kids I actually believe that.  Really and honestly believe that.

Firstly I didn't get out of bed until like noon today.  I think the clock said 11:43 so I was still technically in the morning but kinda not.  I felt SOOOO good.  I rarely get that much unbroken sleep.  So I'm getting up and I do this thing where I walk around my house.  I don't know when I started doing it but I do it every day.  As soon as I hop out of bed, I walk around my house until I inevitably have to go to the bathroom.  So I did that this morning and thanks to the really big cup of juice I had last night I made it as far as the living room before my body said walk later, pee now.  Anyway, Livy called me and was like can you come over Omi's before work or we can come visit you.  I said I had just gotten out of bed and wasn't dressed yet so somehow that meant come home.  My mom calls me back and says the girls decided that they want to be at home with you before you go to work.  They don't get to spend a lot of time with me now that I've gone to work so it's cool, I get dressed and wait for like an hour because my mom took them back to her house to get their clothes and clean up since they spent Friday and Saturday night over there.  They get back and Livy says nothing about putting her bed together.  Nothing at all.  I let her sit for maybe 45 minutes before I decided, I knew what I was doing since they have the same exact bed and I already put one together, we won't have that wasted time of figuring out what the pictures mean so let's get to it.  I mean wow!  When she saw me coming with the knife to open the boxes, her face lit up like the fourth of July!

Got all the boxes open and started to put pierces where we needed them when the doorbell rings.  Jayden and Mia want Livy to come out but she's like no, we gotta put the bed together.  They want to help.  Then the next door neighbor came over, for the life of me I cannot spell this child's name right so I'm going to just put Bri.  So now I have 5 kids in my house all wanting to help.

I sent them downstairs to play rock band.

Also I remembered that I borrowed Joe's tools and that it had the attachment to go in my drill.  Thinking that would speed things up considerably I prepared to use that when I found the ratchet tool.  Why has no one told me of this wondrous tool before?!?!?  Turn click turn click turn and boom done!! I love it. I love tools.  I love Joe for having said tools.  Joe is my new hero.  So in no time at all I got the ends put together and I called the kids up to help me put the beam across the middle that would hold them together.  Click ratchet, click turn, done!  Put another bar on and realized I have 20 minutes to get dressed, grab lunch and get to work.  Kicked the extra kids out got dressed and boogied out.

Work was work.  Folded boxes.  Took deliveries.  Got out early because I was already in overtime and it was dead.  I reiterate my previous statement about it would be livelier in a cemetery waiting for the dead to wake up. Except I had Josh, Josh and joe together make it an interesting night.  They tend to forget that I'm a girl and certain conversations don't need to be had around me so I get a healthy dose of what's in boys minds.  Throw in Wendy who grew up with boys and lives with her fiance and two boys and it's a freaking laugh riot.  But when Joe said I could go I got cause I had to go to walmart before I continued home to finish the bed.

It took until ten minutes ago to finish the bed get the mattress up and on it and unrolled and the bed made.  12 midnight on the dot we were done.  Livy got up there and declared she wasn't coming down until morning.  I kissed her hand and turned off the light and I'm pretty sure both she and Kayla are out like lights right now.

But the best part was when I was helping them finish the ladder, Livy turns to Kayla and says "We have the best mom on the planet.  She's so cool."  It took all I had to not sit there and cry happy tears.  I mean they say it every now and then but it's usually because I let them stay up to watch a movie or something.  This time it was because  and I quote, "She did the beds before work and now after work when she's tired.  You are so awesome mommy!"

So Livy is now in her first full sized bed.  Up in the air.  She even loves the cheap as hell mattress from Ikea.  That or she was really tired.  Either way, I'll get her a mattress pad later.

Have I mentioned that I can stand under these beds and not have to duck?  I'm five foot six and three quarters but there is an inch of space between the top of my head and the bottom of the part where the mattress goes.

So now I'm sitting here with cookies and milk which I shouldn't be eating but I need them to relax with before bed.  I told the girls that they could get up at 7 which to Kayla means 630 because yeah, the late riser had to have an early bird kid.  It's karma biting me in the face for all the years my mom had to resort to banging on the wall and spraying me with cold water to wake me up I get the kid that is up with the sun and ready to play. Jovaughn's get up on no school day schedule is dictated by his stomach.  If his stomach says time to get up, he's up until he gets food and then he's down again.  Olivia... now that's my child 100%.  If there's no school or no reason to get up, the child stays in bed as long as she possibly can.  This has gone up to 12 hours.  I shit you not, that girl can marathon sleep with the best of them.

So yeah, I'm taking my super mom ass to bed and going to dream good dreams.

Night bloggers!! Stay frosty!!

I wanna call this a week in review

But it won't really be.  My memory is short.  I blame work.  But not really.

So Monday... I worked.  And it was deader than dead.  Like so dead that I'm pretty sure sitting in a cemetery waiting for the dead to rise would have been more exciting.

Tuesday... Uhm... What did I work Tuesday?   Oh yeah, I closed.  My first time closing with Wheels as a shift leader and it was pretty alright.  I had a crapton of late deliveries but by the time I got back from my last one he had pretty much all of my closing duties taken care of in an effort for all of us to get out of there at a reasonable time.  So I had told the girls I wouldn't be home until after 12 but I was home before 1130.  It was nice.

Wednesday.  The first of my long days.  10:30 am to 10:30 pm (which turned out to be like 11:15 because I needed to help clean.  There was no way I could leave Josh with that many dishes.

Thursday.  Oh. My. God.  I got up and prepared for Josh to call/text me because he was supposed to meet me at Ikea and help me bring home both of the girls' beds and help me put them together but due to a serious miscommunication issue, he never got in touch with me.  But I manned up and went to Ikea on my own where I promptly had a slight breakdown.  The beds the girls wanted came in multiple boxes.  Three to be precise.  Each one of those fuckers weighed at least 57 pounds. I couldn't get them on my rolley cart to save my life and tears very quickly got the better of me because let's face it, I'm a girl who can be really temperamental and weak sometimes.  Plus, Ikea employees are harder to find than Wal-mart employees.  It's like playing Where's waldo, only the Ikea version. Finally a worker came over and asked if I needed help.  He actually said, "You look like you could use a little help.  Which boxes do you need?  We'll get them together."  This earned him a watery but grateful smile.  So he and I got all six boxes on the rolley cart and he left me to get the mattress on my own. THis led to another breakdown because I couldn't find the mattress I needed/wanted/ could afford and when I did, I couldn't lift it.  This nice couple took pity and the man put it on my boxes for me.

So I get in line not without some damage to the displays that those idiotic Swedes have sitting RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE self serve warehouse.  I mean seriously, those carts are dangerous in the best of hands and they want to put displays out when I'm in charge of driving one??  Anyway, I get in line behind a couple that's pretty much bought an entire wall of cubby spaces and she's talking about how she's going to sit on her butt and let him put it together.  The couple that helped me with the mattress as well as three other people got behind me.  I get to the register and... IT'S THE WRONG FUCKING MATTRESS.  This one is like a hundred dollars more than the one I need.  I asked her if I could just pull my cart to the side and run to get the new mattress.  I figured if she could be accomodating, I could pretend to be superwoman and not cry. She said no, I had to wheel it around and take it with me because it would be in everyone's way if I left it.  The nice now six people behind me assured her in very loud voices that it would not be in their way if I left it but she didn't budge.  She then changed tactics to it would be put away if I left it.... for five short minutes.  At which point, I am now pissed off and pissed off is not what you want to be when you are already running around Ikea with a very cracked psyche.  Cue the mad as hell tears.  I was comforted by the fact that three of the people behind me including the couple that helped me with the mattress the first time got out of her line and went elsewhere.  I got the correct mattress and went back towards the lines.  Again there was some display damage.

I get in another line and the same cashier who made me pissed off cry in the first place is waving me over saying, I can come back to her.  I not so politely said no.  I probably should have because this cashier look like she was about ten minutes away from the end of her day and she didn't care less what happened.  BUt I got the beds to the tune of $790... (huge dip in my account)  Cue slight breakdown number three or four.  by now I have lost count at my cloudbursts of tears.  I had to figure out how to get all this in my moms car.  Hehe, I did it though.  I got home and thus began getting it upstairs.  I was doing pretty good until I reached Olivia's boxes.  I stopped on the top step thinking tat it was anchored on a step but no... it wasn't.  I watched this box, this 57 lbs box slide down the stairs and out of the door.  I cried until I laughed and then I went and got the damn box.

To try and make a long as hell story shorter, It took me about five to six hours after that to put this thing together.  I have the black and blue marks to show for it and Kay looks up at this bed and says, "I didn't realize it was that high."  I'm 5'6 and I can walk under the bed withut ducking and there's an inch of space over my head.  It's a loft bed.  It was this high in the store when I walked under it.  She saw it then but she had to have the bed.  I very nicely told her that there was no effing way it was getting taken down and returned so she needed to get used to climbing that high and she did.  By the time I returned from Walking dead night, she was tucked up in her bed fast asleep.

I have to do Olivia's bed on monday.

Friday, very little happened.  I could barely move so I filled my big tub with hot water and soaked.  It only marginally helped.  Went to work.

Saturday night.  TOnight... Hmm...  You know I like to pretend that my job can't run without me.  That if I left they would stop for even a moment but they won't.  Just like I like to think that they all like me.  I'm pretty sure that among my co-workers I am loved but every now and then we get a new person that just doesn't mesh.  We just recently picked up a guy that has been a manager before and hopes to be one again.  He was pretty much hired to be a GM one day.

God help the crew that has to work under this SOB.  He's rude and petty.  And more than a little standoffish.  In the past day, I have tried joking with him, but he just looks at me like "little bug, shut up."  Today he was pissed off because people weren't tipping him.  Oh so sad.  He refuses to answer phones and he won't even help customers if no one else can.  At one point, Wheels was helpoing me make pizzas and I was busy putting toppings on.  A customer came in and he just kept on wiping pans out and ignoring her.  In the end Wheels had to stop hat he as doing to go help her. This afternoon, the only people with free hands were he and I.  A customer walked in just as the phone was lighting up.  I asked him, did he want to help the customer or did he want to answer the phone.  HE looked at me with that "little bug go away." look and shrugged and said , "Whatever, I don't care."

Even the customer commented on that.  He said "Wow, that's rude."  If there hadn't been in any customers in the store, I might have gone off on him for that one but I couldn't.  It was bad.  I didn't say a word to him the rest of the night.  Towards the end of his shift,. Wheels asked him if he wanted to take one more delivery and he said straight out, he had no interest in taking that delivery because if one more person stiffed him he might quit.  He doubted he'd even made minimum wage tonight.  HE then wiped out the pizza pans and slammed them all down on the pile.  And I know he saw how they all made me jump. But he was taking his bad mood out on the pans.  By them time he finished the last one I was ready to grab a pan and play pong with his head I was that on edge.

It was pretty cool after than and then I came home.  Very little else to tell.

I know that no one;s job depends on whether or not I like them because in the grand scheme of things, I'm a nobody but this guy... he ... he's just...  no.  I can't do it.  He's a sorry SOB and I honestly pity any crew that end up working under him.  If some twist of fate makes him a rank over me, I will quit.  He will never be my boss.

Okay bloggers, my night med and shoulder meds are kicking in and I've been spelling things all sorts of wrong on his blog.  Thank God for the red squiggly line...

Night bloggers!  I love you!! Stay frosty,,,,,,