Gear grinding

And yes, this is going to be one of those blogs where I complain a bit.

So for the last two or three weeks, my left shoulder has been in constant pain.  Sort of like I pulled it out of the socket but I know I didn't because I can still move it.  If I pulled it out I would be in someone's ER crying and carrying on like a baby.  I know this, it has happened before and as much as I want to say, "I've been through childbirth three times, I can handle that kind of pain!" I can't.  As a matter of fact, if I ever look at you and say that, slap me and remind me that the kind doctors knocked my fool ass out until each of my babies were born so I didn't feel a damn thing.

Back to my pain.  It's been like this for about two or three weeks.  It's becoming increasingly hard to move despite it.  I can do my job, yes, but lifting Pizza's off the oven with the grasper, not so much fun.  Especially when someone orders an extra large or a large with every freaking topping we have on the sumbitch.  I've tried hot showers, I've tried my muscle relaxers thinking it was just a pulled muscle.  I've tried my Ibuprofen thinking that it was swelling that needed to go down.  That just made my stomach hurt and I AM NOT repeating the experience that eventually led me to a prescription of Omeprazole and a colonoscopy.  No thank you, Not going to happen.  I even tried my tramadol and got no results whatsoever.  I even tried slamming my shoulder into a wall to try and shove it back in place.  That particular episode ending with me crying and curled up in a ball on the floor.  No I'm serious.  In a ball.  On the floor.

So today I got up and went to my doctors office.  Keep in mind that this is the very same woman who refuses to get the numbness in my hands checked out and has told me that I am to wear braces that cause the shit to hurt more at night.  She steadfastly refuses to give me a referral to see if it's carpal tunnel enough for surgery or maybe a pinched nerve since it affects both hands.  There is NO ONE sitting in the lobby.  As I walk up, I can see her sitting at the desk surfing Facebook on the computer.  I ask if she has a spare five minutes to see me so I can ask her about my shoulder.  The nurse receptionist rather rudely informs me that Dr. Lewis doesn't have the time to see me nor does she do walk in appointments.  I'm like I just need to ask her about my shoulder and she's over there on Facebook.  At this point the receptionist moves to block my view of Dr. Lewis and says I;l have to make an appointment and the next one they have is a month from now.  So I'm supposed to live in daily pain for a month?  She then tells me to try an urgent care clinic although she doesn't know that they will do anything for me because they can't prescribe narcotics.

EXCUSE ME?!?!?  I'm sorry,. did I come in here asking for a fix to stop my pain?? No, I came in asking if the doctor could look at it.  Never once did the phrase "Can I get something for the pain" come out of my mouth.  Bitch I have narcotics at home.  If I needed something strong, I could probably get it somewhere.  I don't need you to pass judgement on me.  No, none of this came out of my mouth.  I did however give her the look that said all of this.  I turned to walk away but ever the lady, I turned and said, "Thank you.  Have a nice day."

So there's an Urgent care affiliated with CMC actually right down the street from me.  Most medicaid people don't go there because I kinda live in a nice part of town that suggest one of those urgent care visits would cost you a first born and they don't take Medicaid.  The visits do cost a pretty penny, but they do take medicaid.  The woman was nice.  She consulted with a practitioner there who said they could see me but if it's the rotator cup like she thinks, that would be a referral to orthopedics.  Something I would have to get from Dr. Lewis. (Oh joy!)  They just have to call CMC Biddlepoint to get the okay for them to see me.  The woman tried eight times to get through and the number just kept hanging up on her.  I tried a few times and it kept hanging up on me.  So no they couldn't see me.  Yes, I am still in pain.  No I am not a happy camper right now.

This is why people complain about medicaid.  They take forever, most of the doctors do the bare minimum and they are not people friendly at all unless the moon has circled the sun and butterflies have pooped rainbows. It's a pain in the ass and if I could afford actual heath insurance coverage I would so get it  So now I don't know what to do... Book the appointment a month from now and just deal with the pain or go to the freaking Emergency room and try them.  I so don't want to go to the ER because truthfully this is NOT an emergency.  IF I've lived with it for three weeks can I not live with it for another four?  That being said the long I take to decide this the more chances I have that the one appointment she had a month from now will be booked and I will have to wait two months.  IF I go to the ER, I run the risk of them thinking I'm a pill seeker in which case, they will pull up my record that the military was kind enough to release that clearly states I have a Narc case out on me that will never freaking go away. (I was a bad girl.  When my marriage was bad, I tried twice to overdose on pills so now I'm classified as a narc case and can only be prescribed low level narcs unless actually admitted.)  Also, if I go to the ER, Medicaid will yell at me for not waiting to see my doctor since I obviously wasn't in so much pain that I needed a ride or wasn't screaming in agony.  IF they'd like I can scream, but my heart wouldn't be in it.

MEdical problems. ::Rolls eyes::

In other news. I have all but given up on the guy that things were actually going pretty nice with at the top of the summer.  I can't get him to spend any time with me.  Even when we are both off work.  The summer excuse was that he was always fishing.  Then as that seemed to play out, the tags on his car are out of date and he doesn't want to get pulled over (But he can go to Volleyball every Sunday with no qualms.  A place that's further away than my house.)  As of Sunday, his car is now over heating...  Also even I have a line.  If you know me in real life, then you know that I rarely invite people over my house when my kids are here.  Men Women, anyone.  Definitely not men. There are only two guys besides my ex that have ever been here when my kids were here and both of them were here only to ask me a question or pick me up and the time spend around my kids could be measured in the minute range.  Like less than five.  I actually invited him over for spaghetti and movie night a few days ago and he completely blew me off.  If the subject had come up around any of our mutual friends, they would have told him that for me to invite him to come to the house and not only eat but sit and watch a movie while the girls were home was a HUGE thing.  Something that happens like...never.  Also, you generally only get one shot at that invite.  His loss.

My birthday is coming up.  In fact it's exactly a week from now.  I'm going to celebrate ON Sunday, I hope.  It may not happen but I hope it does.  I told the ladies at church that I don't have custody of my girls on the weekends so they can't be in any of the programs unless cleared by me and their father beforehand.  Apparently that just means jump over me and ask my mom.  This weekend was all set.  I was going to as their father to keep them and take them to school Monday morning.  That way, I could party Sunday night and be fine by the time the buss brought them home at five that afternoon.  When the youth advisors talked to my mom about parts in this Sunday's show, she decided that Randy could bring the kids to her Sunday night and that she would take them to church and the program then bring them back that night.

Here's the thing.  If she brings them back that night, I can't drink or have real fun because the party wasn't even scheduled to start until like six.  She would be bringing them home in time for bed at nine thirty which means I would get about three hours of non alcoholic fun in before I had to go home and be mom.

No.  On so many many levels no.  Just no.  I'm waiting to hear back from Randy to see if he has to work this weekend and if he can keep the girls and drop them at school monday morning.

I'm getting really sick of no one listening to me on how I want to live my life and raise my kids.  Everyone thinks they know better.  I'm actually starting to think that maybe I should find someplace else to live.  My mother has my aunt now.  She doesn't need me around.  And honestly, ever since the last fight we had about her running my life where she called me an asshole and hung up on me, I haven't much felt like my mom is someone I want to always have in my loops.  I know it's wrong on so may levels to think that way, but neither of us is going to apologize for what was said that night and although she seems to be working on the "Forget what was said and let's act all buddy buddy again" theory, it's hard to forget or forgive when your own mother steps into the middle of your problems with the ex, creates even more problems and then takes his side because you don't do what she wants you to do.

And on top of that, my bullshit tolerance level is being slow to drain so the one person who usually skates around my last nerve at work is straight jumping on said nerve.  I've been really good though.  For three days now, I haven't said a word to her so there's no conflicts at work.  If I just stay quiet until my tolerance level has bottomed out I should be fine.  And it's not just her.  A lot of just straight bullshit is wearing on me.  Stuff that usually doesn't bother me all that much suddenly is just like the end of the world now.

My period is three days late.  Not even a sign of it.  If I had been having sex, I might be worried.  The fact that I am having horrible mood swings, and hot flashes followed by cold flashes is leading me to think that I might just be about to step into the menopause circle.  NOrmally, this is something that I would accept and keep on trucking.  I mean honestly, it means no periods anymore right?  I should be happy.  No, I'm over here freaking out because my period.

My birthday is in a week and I keep joking that I'm turning 25 and will stay that way until further notice but people on my facebook have been calling me out and telling me to be proud of my age and all that crap.  I am proud of my age.  I am proud that I lived this long.  So what if I don't want to claim it??  What the eff business is it of anyone else?  See??? This is the shit that should just roll off my back but it's not.  It's getting stuck there like gum in my hair because my bullshit tolerance level just won't drain.

I need the shit to drain so that I can go back to be happy go lucky me.  Walking around thinking horrible things about certain people all the time is not good for me.  I can hold them in a for awhile but then they get bored in my head and take walk out of my mouth and I lose friends.  I don't want to lose friends.

For now, I'm just keeping my distance and keeping quiet.  If I do that, I should be able to hold out until it's safe to talk again.

People always say be yourself.  Right now, I wish I were anyone BUT myself.

Facebook messenger... GROW THE HELL UP PEOPLE!!!

Okay, this is starting to piss me off just a little bit.  People who don't know what they're talking about or who went on SNOPES.com and read their take on it and every other hype on the messenger and have decided to make a "STAND" about how it's invading your privacy.

1. Facebook messenger can make calls (This may cost you money) the app has a button so that you can call the person you are messaging IF they list their number on facebook.  If you are chatting with a person in INdia that you don't know very well and you have your number listed on FB then yeah, they can call you.  Here's a slight news flash.  For those of you that have facebook on your smart phones and linked to your smartphones, EVERY SINGLE CONTACT ON YOUR FACEBOOK IS IN YOUR PHONES CONTACTS.  I have gamer friends in Sri Lanka that I have never met or talked to other than "Can you send meXXX for the game" but because they listed their phone number and email on THEIR facebook I can call them any freaking time I want to.

2. Messenger can send SMS messages.  Simply, some people get ALL of their notifications as a text on their phone.  If you are one of them and you pay for your texts, then yes, this will cost you money.

3.  It can access your GPS.  Yep  because theirs a little location icon on the app that you can press or depress to let people know where you are chatting fom and here just a little bit more knowledge for you.  If you have GPS enabled on your phone, your location was out there from the time you got there.  Google has you on satellite if they so choose to aim that at you.  Are you more worried that Facebook knows where you are or that Google can find you?  Take your pick if you have it enabled you are NOT waldo, you are holding a big flashing beacon stating where you are and just for shits and giggles here's another little bit of knowledge.  FB messenger GPS pin points you withina 30 miles radius.  Do you know how many times my FB GPS has pin pointed me like fifteen miles from where I actually am??

4. It can access your camera.  Uhm yeah if you click the button to send a picture/video over messenger.  It CANNOT do this if your phone is in standby.  It IS NOT recording you while you sleep or creep over to your booty calls house for a quickie.

5.  It is not reading your private messages and sending them to Facebook.  Yes FB CAN access the conversations should they have to but it takes a court order.  They cannot go in and say "Oh this person was talking about you're killing me! Let's call the police!!  If at any time you think that the moguls that run Facebook have nothing better to do than assign someone to sit and read your messages then dammit you don't deserve to even have a smart phone.  The thing is smarter than you.  Put it back in the box and go sit in the corner.

If you watch the video to the end he even admits that this is all in the terms and conditions WHICH HE DID NOT READ, BUT ACCEPTED NONE THE LESS. Dude, really, I have a real estate contract for some land down in Florida that I want you to sign.  I may not read the whole thing but at least I scanned it for the permissions part.

And yes children these days are lying about their age to get a facebook (And the required age is 15 not 11.  Seriously man, READ the more you know.... smh) But if they agree to the terms and conditions the bigger problem is not that they can't do so legally but THEY ARE TECHNICALLY PUBLICLY BREAKING THE LAW BY LYING AND AGREEING TO THEM.  "LIl Jr is only 9 years old but he has a facebook and uses messenger all the time.  What?? He agreed to the terms and conditions??  He can't do that!!  But he agreed and he talked about bombing the white house??  Aw shookie, Little Jr is going to JV cause he agreed!" If you can't see the sarcasm dripping off that shut off your phone, put t back in the box and go sit in the corner.

GROW UP!  The messenger app is only doing what it's supposed to do.  Conveying a message from one person to another person.  That's all.  unless you tell it to do more, it's not doing anything more.

Kids are back!!

And tomorrow is the first day of school!!! Where the heck did my summer go?? I remember pizza... and pizza... and pizza... and... oh.

Ask me if I am sad about this?  Nope!! My babies are back, my house has noise in it!!!  Not that deafening silence that has greeted me for the past two months.  I love to see them go away for the summer but hate when they're gone.  Ugh, them going to college is going to hit me like a Mac truck.  Empty Nest syndrome is going to be killer on me.

With the return of the kids comes the return of my air conditioner being set to 65 at night.  This I'm not so happy about.  I had adjusted to my cozy 70-71, now I feel like a popsicle.  But my babies are home!! Yay!!

NO real news on the Batshit Crazy cyberstalker that I aquired.  Still getting random emails about me being a bully but They don't know me so they're just words.  I haven't gotten one that went off the wall violent on me.  Most of them keep telling me that I'm going to get expelled from school if I don't stop being a bully.  Cause yeah... twenty years after graduating, they're going to expel me...

Work is still fun.  So yeah, there's that.

Over all except for the batshit crazy element in my life everything is super duper.

Yawn.  Tired as poop.  Worked one to nine today and then came home and did hair.. School starts tomorrow and seven thirty comes really really quickly...

Stay Frosty readers!  I know I am!

Muah!

Oh and... My birthday is in 22 days!!! Yay!!!

Privacy

So the blog is now private... again...

God this seems like deja vu although I can't for the life of me remember what idiot caused the last outbreak of privacy control.  That would require fishing through four years of blogs and as narcissistic as I am, (And I really am...) I am not going to do that.  Which is to say that now that I am actually curious I just might...

Crap I hate when I put an idea in my own head... *Mumbles off to herself*

So this is going to shorter than usual because I haven't an actual clue what to write about and my hands are going numb.  Well not going... Have gone... went? I don't have time for grammar nazi right now so suffice to say the ishes are numb and writing has been interesting.

Back to the topic on hand, the aforementioned Karen from two previous blogs has decided that I am a colossal bully and she put my personal email out on Twitter with the hashtag #bully.  I'm not even going to tell you what I woke up to...  Let's just say that some people take bullying very seriously and when someone that they don't know tells them that some random person is a bully, they unleash all sorts of rage on the target they've been given.

I imagine it is something like an assassin goes into the office and is handed an envelope with the name of his next target.  He doesn't know who they are or what they did to deserve this but he must do his job and kill them.  Among the email threats and barbs I got this morning were "Does your mother know that you are a bully?" and "They're going to kick you out of school and lock you up in JV for what you do."  Those two were actually among the ones that made me smile because they proved that they don't know me.

One, I wanna say woman but I'm not sure, sent me some long sob story about a boy that was bullied and killed himself.

Yes I read through them.  I have deleted them but I read through them.  They are actually still arriving.  Don't worry random tormentors, I am actually reading your hate mail. (And writing down the emails of some of the more threatening ones) but I am reading them!!  Never let it be said that Claudette doesn't read her fan mail!

Question? Why don't I shut down the email and get a new one? Answer because that email is connected to 99.9% of the stuff in my life and to change it now would cause me way more upheaval than to just delete the emails.

I guess she meant by "Do you know what I do?" was that she doesn't have a job so she sits on social media making people's lives hell.

Lord spare me.

On another note, I stayed up way too late last night, this morning trying to watch Lord of the Rings: The Two towers.  I got through disc one and have minimal idea of what I watched but disc two was where my eyes decided that since I didn't seem like I was going to let them close they were going to pull a Control alt delete on me.  So about a half an hour into disc two I crashed.  I might try disc two again tonight.  Although with my short memory I should probably go back to disc one.  Arg!!

My babies come back tomorrow.  And they start school on Monday.  My mom is is in NY/NJ and emailing me instead of calling me.  I have no comment on this.  None.  Nope.  Not me. The ex finally called me and guess what excuse he used for ignoring me?

Come on anyone??  Really?? Nothing?

"You didn't call me or text me... I have nothing!!  This stupid phone must be acting up again.  Because nothing came through."

Right now I'm having one of those moments where I look back at my 18 year old self and think, "Really, Claudette?? REALLY? No.  Just walk the hell away."

You know how they say if you could go back to one moment in your life and change things which moment would it be?  Right now it would be the day I decided to go to JCSU.  I would go to Fayetteville.  Let's see what asstard I'd've ended up with then.

Sigh, I think I am going to go into work a little early.  For the millionth time I sit here and wonder is my life really so sad that I have to hang out at work?  Then I remember the awesome people at work and I think it's not sad.  IT's cool, but I wonder what, if anything , is said behind my back.

ugh.... hands in pain.  Will blog more another time...

Stay frosty Bloggers.

I honestly think I'm about to have one of those breaks that causes severe turmoil.

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.

So yeah...

Tiny update and then a real update.

So remember that woman Karen that I blocked on FB because she was a little too foul mouthed for even me?  She uh googled my blog and saw the post where I put out there the EXACT shit she wrote to me via twitter and then what her friend said to me...  Guess what I found tonight when I was checking my 'Others" mailbox.... go on, guess...  That's right, a letter from her on yet another person's profile.

There you have it, folks... I'm dead.  She's gone and busted a caps lock in my ass.

She does nothing for a living.  At least that's what she told me on the phone the one time I talked to her.  Her mother's money pays for everything.  Her sons... Oh I wish I had screenshots of all the time she wished they would die or their girlfriends get deported or called them good for nothings and crooks.

But please tell me, what is contacting my church going to do?  Contacting my work... I highly doubt that that call will get far.  As for Child Protective services???  It's a nice threat but not one that's going to hit home.

Nobody likes me?? Oh damn... And on top of which I'm a fat ass pathetic bitch.

Quick!! Someone stop the flow of blood!!! I might die sitting right here!!!

I love being threatened on social media.  If you screen shot it, and they delete it, it's all good.

So this Carmen person now shows up as Facebook user since I reported her.  

So anyways....

The real update:

Not a damn thing.  I have lost about another twenty pounds but other than that nothing.  Nothing on the dating thing... well... no, nothing new that I can report.

I do have to figure out what to do with my chest freezer.  I left it open and it fried itself and rotted over $100 worth of meat.  But I have no one to blame but myself. I left the top open all me.  Can't pin this on the kids.

Sigh... Have to figure out what to do about the freezer.  I think I'm going to find a way to toss it and get a new one...

So it's been awhile...

...since my last post.  This is not actually because I forgot to blog, it's because I've been way too busy to blog.

I never actually thought I'd say that I was too busy to blog.  I mean I used to blog from my phone just because.  I used to come home tired as hell and still blog but lately.... OMG!  by the time I get home the only thing in my path is my bed.  You have no clue how many mornings I wake up and find a trail of clothes from the front door to my bedroom meaning I stripped as I walked and got right in bed.

Of course for the past few days, it's been slightly alarming health issues that are adding to my tiredness.  None of which I would love to go into on here right now.  But suffice to say that besides scaring the ish out of me, one of the side effects is that I'm tired.

So I'm now the Chief cook at work... yeah... no, I'm not I'm still a pleeb but I'm the pleeb that's more than likely making your pizza as now I'm mostly insider.  It was just a lark to change my job title. It's sort of a promotion but kinda not really.  See when I'm inside I make seven something an hour.  When I'm on the road, I make $4.25 THIS IS WHY IT IS IMPORTANT TO TIP YOUR DELIVERY DRIVER!!!! WE MAKE SQUAT WHEN WE ARE ON THE ROAD!!! By being mostly and insider now, I will be sticking to that 7 something and my checks will be a little bit more.  So yay!!  More money is always good.

It's not going to be a long post tonight.  I just spent the past like nine hours mostly on my feet and my back is complaining very loudly.  I'm used to standing, sitting, standing, sitting, repeat as a driver.  I'm on my feet for a few minutes and sitting in my car.  Today I was standing for a long time and it wasn't until I went to bend that my back said in a not so polite way "Look here, I've been amping up the uncomfortable feeling for awhile now to tell your dumb butt to sit down but Nooooo you don't wanna listen so now I'm gonna MAKE you understand that you need to sit."

Does anyone else hear an electric guitar chord in their head when there's a flash of intense pain in their body?  Anyone?  No?  Seriously can't be just me....

*Shuffles feet and looks sheepish cause now she feels weird and odd*

Okay, well, I'm gonna hop off here because I have something to do before I go to bed and tomorrow I think I'm going to try and make an appearance at church since I've managed to miss it two weeks running now.  I always try to make it for first Sunday as that's communion day but I've been a real slacker on the other Sundays lately and that's bad.  I don't want God mad at me although I'm pretty sure that he's okay with the fact that I'm still religious I just don't go sit in a building and hear a speech on said religion every Sunday.  At least I hope he's okay with it...

Goodnight bloggers.  Luv ya!! Stay Frosty!

And people ask me WHY I choose to be antisocial sometimes....

Because social media is going to make me act on my horrible thoughts one day.  I swear I don't know what runs through people's heads when they post on a website that's available to millions.

So I had this woman, Karen, on my facebook for the longest time.  I mean probably years at this point.  I have talked to her a few times via message and twitter and once over the phone.  She generally is/was a very nice person...to her friends.  But she dislikes a good bit of her family and has no problem calling them everything from Cunts to whores, to bitches ALL OVER FACEBOOK.  She wishes they would die, get deported, have houses fall in on them, yada yada yada, the story and the spew of threats and horrible wishes for them doesn't stop.  For a couple of months I actually unfollowed her.  Not unfriended her, but un followed her because I simply tired of seeing it.  Then in a moment of sympathy when she asked why I didn't respond to her posts anymore I told her I couldn't see them and I told her why I had hidden them to which she promised that it wouldn't happen again.  So I allowed her posts back into my news feed.  And you know what?  For nearly two years, all was copacetic. And then this year she started going off again.  At least fifteen times a day eff this eff that person hope this person dies," "my mothers sister is a dumb bitch", "hope my good for nothing son and his illegal cunt wife get deported", stuff like that and I posted on my facebook, the following:

Shortly thereafter by which I mean less than two hours, I held to the promise and deleted and blocked Karen as she chose in that short time to go off on another tirade about this time going to wal-mart and some woman asking about her aunt and her responding that she's a dumb bitch.  Whether or not she had time to see my warning I don't know.  She then took to twitter to contact me.  Hence a screenshot of the whole conversation:

After she said the part about me being desperate, I stopped responding completely.  I didn't feel that it required me to respond because I know myself and I know that I was already having a bad day so I didn't want to go off on her in typical Dette style.  If you know me you know that had I responded, it probably would have gone way downhill, taken a right and flew out into the stratosphere in no time at all.  So I said nothing.

This morning, I opened my Facebook inbox to check that I didnt have any messages in the OTHER box (The one that non friends get sent to until you check it?  I try to check it once a week)  A lo and behold I had a message:

I cannot respond any further because I blocked him.

So from this I gather, that my name is now mud in Omak, Washington State.  Damn, and I had a reservation to go visit on a quarter past never.  I'm going to have to cancel my trip now.

I don't understand how two people in the same conversation can see things fifteen different ways  I really don't.  But I guess this is what social media does to friendships.

I've made some really good friends via Facebook and I intend to keep them as long as they want me around.  But here's the thing.  It's Facebook.  It is NOT the bible.  It is NOT the Holy Grail.  It is NOT the edict by which ANYONE should live their life.  It is a website created by a kid in a dorm room one night when he was bored.  That is all.  Nothing more.

Shaking my head at all of this.  Just shaking my head.  Stay Frosty bloggers, I'm going to find something to do with my Monday night.  Looking like Orange is the New Black might be my plan right now.  Not a bad show. Pretty funny actually.

Take it easy!  Smell ya later!!

Well, today is going to be interesting...

...And by interesting, I mean for everyone around me.  For me it's probably going to suck.

So my aunt called me at a little after nine thirty this morning.  To remind me that I'm spending the night over at her house to dog sit. I have scattered views on why, If I go over and walk her and play with her, do I have to spend the night with her but whatever, I shall comply for she is bringing me me back popcorners which is this awesome popcorn chip that I had on a flight up to New York and bought a bag in NY but never once thought to call someone and see if they sold them here before returning.  So I got home and *Gasp* they don't sell them in the south.  WTF?!?!

Anyway, I have since found that Bj's sells them or the website says they do, I don't want to go all the way up there and they don't because then I might have to hurt someone.

So I did manage to get the garbage disposal unjammed and the five day old chicken in the sun smell is slowly going away because apparently there was a piece of now four day old chicken in the drain and my house was just smelling nasty.  I also did the dishes.  Well, put them in the dishwasher and hit on, but still...

I have all but finished my coffee and the desire to drive ten plus miles for some damn popcorn chips is still strong. The force is strong with this craving...

On one hand, if I go up there and they don't have them, I can still get cheap gas.  On the other hand, if I go there and they don't have them, I can get gas and the steaks for tomorrow night.  On the third hand, If I drive all the way up there and they have them, yay! and I get them, gas, and steaks.  Winning all around.  Yes, I think I will go up there and see if they have them.

What's that you say?  Why don't I call up there first to see?  Have you ever tried calling a BJ's to see if they have something in stock??  No?  Okay let me clue you in.  You will call and get the customer relations desk.  They will put you on hold while they page someone in that department but it will be time for their break.  It always is.  Someone else will pick up the call but not know what you are looking for and they will put you BACK on hold while they look after you've explained it in enough detail that a preschooler could find it.  Then they will get distracted by a customer actually on the floor and forget about you until your call eventually rings back to the customer relations desk and the whole freaking cycle begins again.  I'd rather drive.

So coffee is doe.  And the world is looking a little brighter. I don't think anyone is actually going to die today.  Or get cussed out.  But the day is only half over so I can't say that in concrete yet.

Time to get dressed.  Toodles!

Stay Frosty!

Ugh...

So I did the silent thing at work tonight.  IT wasn't totally on purpose, but it kinda was.  I get random migraines and when I do I have an EXTREMELY short fuse.  So short that you could tell me that the sky is blue and I will get pissed at you for telling me something that I not only already know but something that I could look up and discover for myself and then I'll get pissy because you don't think I can look up and see it which will lead to me getting pissy because you think I'm an idiot and the list is so freaking endless that it makes my head hurt worse to see if there is actually an end to said list.

So I keep silent.  Because I have anger issues.  And I have word vomit when the head hurts.  And the guard at the censorship gate just walks away.  So things and true feelings could come pouring out of my mouth that will make you hate me.  So I don't talk.  It's better to have friends and coworkers who will still work with you at the end of the day than to alienate them from the get go and be assed out.

Also, I need a shirt that says "Stop freaking asking me if I'm okay!"  Dammit if you see that I'm quiet and not smiling and you ask me once , that's okay.  If I say "i'm fine" that's generally code for no but I don't want to talk.  So drop it, please???  Just let me sort myself out.  It'll happen.  May not happen on your timetable but then.... I'm so not going to finish that.  Sometimes I can catch the word vomit.  Sometimes.

So I keep having a very weird dream.  I keep dreaming that I ask for a transfer to the University store and the GM, Jordan, and I fight like literal cartoon cats and dogs.  Every day all day.  But he won't or can't fire me.  I know why I ask for the transfer.  It's to avoid seeing someone that it's becoming increasingly hard to actually be around.

But I don't ever actually see me asking for a transfer to that store.  Never no way, no how, not going to happen.  I would rather quit first that go work there.  They are FOREVER running out of things and coming to our store to re up.  Like excuse me... No!  Just no.  Stop using so much and effing learn how to order the appropriate amount of shit on your own truck and stop mooching off of us!!  I can see needing stuff on Wednesday night right before truck... cause everyone runs out every now and again, usually RIGHT before payday/restocking.  That's just a way of life.  But to need supplies on truck day?!?!?  Are you serious?  No.  It's kinda good that I'm not a shift leader at work because honestly, I would look at the caller ID and just answer the phone with "No, dude.  No."  Or I'd pretend to go look for the stuff they ask for and come back and say "Sorry man, we can't spare it."  Or maybe the much nicer "Yeah sure you can have it but I want it back AS SOON as your truck comes in.  Like I'm going to send my driver up to your store to pick it up at ten A.M.  Yes I know, but I'll ask them to come in early just so they can come pick it up.  Oh?  You don't need it?  You can wait?  That's cool!  Bye!!"

I'm a bitch.  A pure unadulterated bitch.  I admit that... from time to time... I didn't say that.  I did not just say that.  Yes I did.  But I bet that fucker would start to use his supplies more wisely.

So it was brought up to me last night, why do I like the guy that I currently like.  My answer was hands, eyes, and voice.  While that's true, that's not totally true.  It's part of what keeps me attracted but there's something pulling me.  The first time I was in Howies and got to meet everyone, Joe says, "And this is XXXXXXX" I turned around and the air was sucked out of the room.  I don't know any other way to describe it but the air was sucked out of the room and in my mind bells started ringing.  I seriously doubt if he felt that way.  But I did.  I missed part of an important conversation for those damn bells.  When he shook my hand I felt like I never wanted to wash that sumbish again. (I did... several times.  I wash my hands maybe 90 times at work on an average week.)  And his eyes.  They're this blue grey that sees right into you and when he smiles they light up like fireworks.  The good silent but very bright ones.  His hands... oh... don't get me started on his hands.  They're actually bigger than my own which is really hard to find in guys because I got my father's hands.  They are large and more times than not fit a mans glove.  His fingers are skinnier than mine but his hands are bigger and Lord have mercy does he know what to do with them! I didn't say that.  I did not say that!....  He can lift me into the air and he doesn't have to strain or use a forklift.  No guy in my life has ever been able to.  And Heaven help me, he thinks I'm short.  My forehead is at his mouth.  As for his voice.  God I could sit and listen to him talk for hours.  Have.  His voice is so seductive.  Sometimes I sit and wonder if I'm just really really horney but then I walk into the kitchens and he's there and it's not my lower half that jumps for joy... it's my mind and my chest.  My lower half is all like "Yay, he's he's here... cool."  My head and my chest ae meanwhile doing jumping jacks and somersaults and high school cheers complete with pom poms. "2-4-6-8!  Who do we appreciate?? XXXXXXX! XXXXXXX! he's our guy! Yaaaaay!" And no it doesn't get annoying because only I can hear it and I have a very good poker face.

I suck crap at poker but I have a very good poker face.

Speaking of card games, does anyone in this damn town play gin?  I can't find a decent gin game to save my life.  I know where I can find a spades game but that requires me to hang out with the guys from work which isn't actually a problem but I'm not the best at spades and haven't played in a few years.  I don't play poker because I played strip once and lost.  Lost badly.  I'm pretty sure that the deck was somehow rigged so that I would loose badly but still.  Being the naked one in a room full of guys.... not so awesome.  Not always.  So no, Dette will not play poker.

I have Cher Lloyd's Swagger Jagger going through my head right now.  I just took my melatonin so maybe that will put her to sleep.  I doubt it.  The migraine meds which are thankfully working, combined with the night meds will probably have her singing the ish in the University store while Jordan and I are duking it out.

I really need to get to the bottom of my issue with him.  It cannot seriously be simply because he has no idea how to order a truck and make it last for a freaking week.  It can't be.  It just can't.  There's something else there and I cannot for the life of me figure it out.

Okay, I'm kinda babbling right now.  I recognize that, so I'm going to go and let my night meds kick in.  Tomorrow I have to try and fix my garbage disposal because it's jammed on something.... again and there's a piece of rancid chicken in there somewhere.  There has to be.  There can be no other explanation for why my kitchen and subsequently most of my house smells like a five day old chicken left in the sun.  This is going to be fun... Did you see the head twist that came with that last bit of sarcasm?  No?  It was there.  Trust me.

So I'm going to go and curl up under my blankets because it's cold in my house.  like a stupo, I left the AC on and set to like 68 degrees so my house is freaking antarctica right now.  And all I want is ice cream.

Oh two things.  Tonight I went to Chick fil a for some french fries and the woman at the window had candy stuck all over her shirt and in her hair.  She looked so damn much like Vaneelope From Wreck it Ralph (I actually called her Penelope pitstop.  Totally different character)  So I asked her Why she was dressed like Penelope Pitstop (Again I got the name wrong but...)  and she got so freaking excited and told me I was getting a free chicken tender meal because she had been dressed like that all day and while customers had asked why she had candy stuck to her they had never named her character.  The Davis Lake Chick fil A was showing Wreck it Ralph tonight and she was dressed as Vanellope.  I won free food.  Yay.  I used my chicken tender in a soft taco from taco Bell.  So I had Chick fil a chicken on top of taco bell beef and all wrapped up.  Yes it was good. No, I'm not pregnant.  you have to actually have sex for that to happen.

The second thing was that I had a golden night at work tonight... you know aside from the migraine and not talking thing... Not one customer stiffed me on tips.  One even gave me an $8 tip and one wanted to round her credit card out to $30 so I got 6.30.  Yaya for awesome customers!  Worked five to eleven and made $50+ dollars.  So yeah... tonight's customers were awesome sauce!

Yawn!  Going to hit the hay.  Stay Frosty bloggers!

Oh and can someone PLEASE tell me who is +1ing my posts via Google+?  Every single freaking post is +1'ed and I have no clue who it is so I can't thank them!!  Frustrating not to be able to say thank you sometimes.

Thank you!  Whoever you are!!

Goodnight... or rather morning... since I blogged myself into Saturday morning!

Ta!