My earlier cranky entry of the day is here. (And I fixed it now.)It's about 1:30 in the afternoon, and I thought I'd write a second entry today to share more of my angst with you all. There was a brief moment this morning when I was having coffee in the faculty room and the Colleague came in there to do something or other with the photocopiers, and when we saw each other it was like in a movie where long-lost friends see each other after 50 years. So we got to tell each other some of our lives, but just for a minute. If I had been able to talk to her for a half hour, you nice folks wouldn't have to be the recipient of all this shit.
I want to tell you -- somebody! -- how and why my wonderful family is driving me crazy. I want to sit on a floor someplace and cry (but I can't get down to the floor and I'd never get up) or just fly off to DisneyWorld BY MYSELF. I'll rent a wheelchair and then I can cut the line for every ride.
It started shortly after I got home yesterday. I know I was very, very tired, and they were doing some things for me, and even cheerfully. R put in a wash, no questions asked. Maybe it started when I came in and saw that there was still cat barf on the living room rug. Maybe it started when the Hubs got home, and after he settled in, I casually mentioned that we didn't have K's work schedule for next week yet, but did he think he might be able to take me to work one day if I needed him to? (I have a three day work week next week, btw.)
Now, he leaves for work at 6 am, and works about ten minutes away. He gets home around 7 pm. These are not the requirements of his job. This is him being insane.
His very cheerful answer was, "Oh, sure! I'll just have to take the day off."
What. The. Fuck. Even if he went to work and came back at 7 to take me, he'd be gone a half hour and no one else would even be in the office yet! Is there any wonder why I don't ask him to do things? Way to lay on the guilt, man.
So at that point, I wanted to say "Keep your damn ride; I'll crawl to work," but I did not go there because why bother? So that settled down, and I moved over to a corner of the couch -- the girls were at that point ensconced on both couches, hello -- and they put on American's Top Model, which I watch but not really, and I was very, very tired. I asked R, who was sitting there with me, to wake me for Lost in case I fell asleep.
The two of them looked at me as if I had just asked them each to skin one of the cats. I said "What?" and they said that if I wanted to sleep, I should go to bed, because when I fall asleep in the room with them, I snore. Yes, I know. I snore wherever I fall asleep, because I have nasty sinuses and a deviated septum and oh, by the way, I'm 30 pounds overweight. So I managed to keep myself awake in a zombie state until Lost came on.
About halfway through the Model show, I started to hiccup. Once again, looks of disdain. Ten minutes of me hiccupping went by until a commercial came on, and the two of them got up to go down to the basement for a smoke. At which point, I said "Would someone hand me my drink from the desk?" which one of them did, I took a sip, and stopped hiccupping immediately.
I ask you. Your mother is hiccupping for ten minutes, annoying the crap out of you, and SHE HAS A BROKEN LEG. At what point do you say to said mother "Do you want something to drink?"
Cut to this morning. K, as I mentioned previously, does not do morning. On other days that she's driven me to school, she goes about her business and I mine, until at last she appears in the doorway of the family room, jacket and scarf on, bag over her shoulder, and I have to get up, turn things off, get things on, and so forth. At 7:10 this morning, she was in the kitchen doing something or other, and I reached up and turned off my desk light. She came to the doorway and said with that teenage sneer "You know, I'm not ready yet. I haven't even eaten breakfast." In human words, stop rushing me. I don't have time to eat breakfast and it's your fault.
I said "I was just trying to help," but what I wanted to do at that point was just fuck it and sit there and cry all day. Not an other word passed between us until we were almost at school and I asked if she would be able to pick me up at 2:30. She said she was going to the supermarket from work, and I shouldn't be surprised if she was a little late.
No fucking problem. I'll just stand in the high school parking lot ON MY CRUTCHES until you happen to get there. With any luck, it will be at 2:35, just as school is letting out, and there will be pedestrian kids and their lunatic SUV driving parents every fucking where.
She did toss me a relatively cheery "Have a nice day!" as I got out of the car. I think the bipolar is skipping a generation today.
My right arm is bothering me oddly, from the neck/shoulder down to my fingertips. It feels sensitive to the touch, and is achy. So, being me, I figure a nerve is damaged somewhere, although I'm sure it's just from using the crutches.
Oh, and here's the thing about the handicapped parking and voting. I do have a ride to vote, in fact, all three of the bozos who live with me expect to be taking me to vote, which is pretty funny when you consider that these are people who will walk right past obvious cat barf in their own house. But voting is really a kind of sacred duty to us all, and they know that I probably would walk ther on my crutches, if it came to that, as would any of them. The Hubs thinks it would actually be convenient for him (!!!!!!!!!) to come back and take me to work Tuesday, so we could vote then. K is willing to take me any time. But the prize goes to R, who will be coming home from a weekend in South Carolina on Tuesday around 2, and will come from the airport directly home and take me then. She is insistent on this. I just want her to park in a handicapped space so I don't have to walk as far, but she maintains that she will drop me off close to the building and then park wherever she can. My guess is that the parking Nazis will not allow this, but we shall see.
In the meantime, I believe I may seriously be the last person in the school to see the new building. There was just an aide who came in the the library and exile and said she had just been in there walking around. Really! One of the construction workers took her in. Well, well. So I told the SCM that we are going first thing tomorrow morning. I can get up and down the stairs as long as I am not alone and we are not in a hurry. And that's what we're doing.
So there. I'm going to the ladies room while there's still one within a hundred yards of my location, and then I'm leaving in a half hour. I'll post this from home.
I'm just saying.
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I'm home now. Thanks for letting me vent. The kid had a bad day at work, but is relatively pleasant now. As for me, I'm just happy to be home.
