when you take your fucking medication like you’re supposed to.
Still bawled like a baby when son #3 said he might come home instead of staying in California. Then I bawled again when the bus company left my disabled, lung-compromised child that cannot speak above a whisper outside my door for 5 minutes while DROVE THE FUCK OFF WITHOUT SO MUCH AS A HONK. Bastards. They will hear about this tomorrow. I’m not calling today because I’m liable to kick someone’s ass and I know the people that run it and I don’t want to make shit weird or bad for I A N. But motherfucker. Do NOT leave my kid fending for himself when it’s 29 degrees out. God help them tomorrow. Had I been watching the window like June CLeaver, I would be able to run out like a good bitch and greet my son the proper way. Except they come anywhere from 3-3:45. Never the same time twice. Sorry, not sitting on the couch for 45 minutes when you can honk your fucking horn to get my attention.
Hot damn I’m pissed.
If he gets sick…..
Not really. Lots of things going on. Not major things, but enough medium type things that are pinging around in my head so I don’t forget them. Bad part is, my anxiety keeps me from using the phone very much. 2 of my tasks involve the phone. That’ll be fun.
I was supposed to work from 6pm -2am. Yuck. Except, it’s quiet in the evenings and the work is at your pace. Well, once the trucks are gone. Getting the trucks unloaded and then reloaded on time is a giant pain in the ass. Total bust ass work. So I guess you are rewarded with slower paced shit. But I don’t have a slow speed. So I do 50 millions chores around the plant for the shift coming in. They love me. They miss me on mornings though. My home mail usually comes at noon. When he doesn’t roll up until 3? They had a yucky day at the post office. That’ll teach you to put me on nights.
ANYfuckingway, I was supposed to work from 6-2, but now I have to go in at 4, so I get off at midnight. Cue the Angel Choir. Much better. I am sorting mail for the first two hours. BOring. But necessary. Then I’ll help with the dock, then I’ll do whatever the fuck I want for the last 4 hours. BOring. I need the fast pace of mornings. That’s bust ass the entire time.
Oh well. I will treat this as a vacation.
Life has been happening. ‘Nuff said.
Not to say that I have a busy life. It’s not really. Not anymore. No kids around most of the time. No husband around most of the time. Just me. Me by myself a lot. Realizing just how much of Me comes out of the rx bottle. Yesterday I slept until 10am. I didn’t take my morning pills until 2pm. Needless to say, I didn’t get dressed until 5pm – to get ready for work at 6pm. Today? I get home at 2:30am, sleep from 3-6am, take my meds, see kids off to school, shower, dress, and head to Wally world to get more rx’s – all before 8am. Something still goes wonky every now and again and I cannot get with it. What happens when my brain just refuses to turn on – and I have to go to work? It’s happened twice with school. Only classes I missed in 4 years. Wait, I missed one when Jen died. So 3.
I’d say I’ve been having sad thoughts more than usual, but is it more than usual? Or is it just the norm? I dunno anymore. I’m just sad. Sad that some fucked up disease is going to steal my sunshine in a few years. Hurts to breathe when I think about it. I don’t tuck it away though. I know from dealing with my cousin’s death that you have to deal with the demons as they come at you, or they fester and unite and become something you can’t defeat on your own. Each and every time I think about the inevitability of the situation, it sucker punches me. Every time. I explore a bit of the horror that awaits us, and it destroys me. I’m just hoping it’s desensitizing me, even a little bit so the real deal doesn’t kill me. Cause I’m afraid it might.