Friday night lights...

So, for those of you who have me as a friend on Facebook, you've probably been waiting for my blog on what happened on Friday...*sighs* Well, here we go. Friday was such a fucked up day. Seriously.


Friday morning we got up early and took the kids to daycare so we could go to a meeting with cps, the kids' therapist, and their mom. Well, it wasn't as easy as just driving across town to drop the kids off. No, the freeway was closed, so all the side streets were slammed with traffic. There had been an officer involved shooting, so the freeway was completely shut down for a few miles. It sucks for those involved, but also for those of us who weren't expecting it to take over an hour to drive 25 miles. We were way late for the meeting, but whatever. I'm glad I only had to spend a little over an hour with the kids' crazy mom instead of two full hours. I met her the other day and she bugged the crap out of me, but it's whatever, you know? I mean, I don't need to spend time with her. We're not going to be friends. However, at the meeting, I learned how deep her delusions run. She was trying to insist that CPS set her up and it's all defamation of character. Ummm...CPS has it in their file that they found drug paraphernalia at her house. She admitted at a previous meeting that her foot hurts all the time from a car accident she was in over two years ago and she refuses to stop taking Oxycontin or Methadone. She's going to take one or the other. The problem isn't that she takes these...The problem is that she abuses them and doesn't stay coherent enough to take care of her kids. So, at the meeting, no matter what we said about the kids, she turned around to talk about herself. For instance, we brought up that Baby Hurricane talks to something we can't see. (Casper the friendly ghost or imaginary friend, we know not which.) I was telling them about how last Sunday I was sitting watching TV with her when she suddenly looked over and started talking to something and then rolled her ball towards whatever she was talking to. I had thought, "If that ball rolls back, I'm making a run for it!!" Haha. I'm a good caretaker, huh? So, as we tell this story, the mom says, "When I was her age, my sister got shot in a drive-by and I created an imaginary friend. I used to ask where it lived and it told me that it came from the mountains." Are you fucking kidding me? She's a fucking druggie who can't remember the ages of her kids, but she can remember an imaginary friend from when she was two? She has to have her husband write her a list of everything she needs to do each day and include written instructions (with a hand-drawn map) to get to the meeting, but she can remember her imaginary friend? I don't fucking think so! It took everything in me not to tell her to shut the fuck up! I couldn't stand listening to her talk. She looks and acts like a druggie. She bugs the shit out of me. It also came out that when she was preggers with Sir Complains A Lot that she was on speed. Nice. What kind of person does that? I started getting hives and a headache just listening to her. I found myself wondering, "What's a good reason to leave the room? Can I say I have a tummy ache and walk out?" But I knew Phoenix would lay into me after we left if I did that. Haha! I was so glad when the meeting was over. I made a run for it, but then Phoenix stayed behind and talked to the therapist. Since she stayed behind, with the car keys, I was stuck standing outside on the sidewalk waiting for her. This left me vulnerable and here came crazy mom, limping along. She tells me and the CPS worker that she has refractured her foot and the hospital gave her pain meds. Care to guess which type? DING, DING, DING! Oxycontin! Fucking morons!! You'd think that hospital could spot an addict a mile away! Yeah, her kids are never going home again. Finally, she said she had to go see her lawyer, you know because they're going to sue CPS for defamation of character...Is there a law against calling a spade a spade? Because she's a druggie and shouldn't have her kids. I hate CPS, but in this case, they were right in what they did.


After the meeting, Phoenix and I got a break, which was nice, but I knew that that evening I was going to have to see druggie mom and her husband at the high school football game we were going to. Sir Complains A Lot was involved in a cheerleading camp and was going to perform a cheer with the high school cheerleaders. Well, CPS and the dad decided that instead of doing a "visit" on Wednesday, they would have the visit at the football game. *rolls eyes* I knew this was going to be a cluster fuck. The CPS worker said she'd meet us there at 7pm. Well, we got there just before 7pm and the parents were there. The dad is a super nice guy, but he's a puss. If he'd leave the mom, he could have the kids back. Perhaps he likes being a part time dad? I don't know. I'd want my kids, no matter what it took, but that's just me...Anyway, so we go into the game and before we even get in, the mom is already pissing me off. She just doesn't shut up! She has a whiny voice and she was high. Not like stoned on weed, but she'd taken her meds. Surprise, surprise, CPS wasn't there yet. In fact, CPS arrived sometime between 7:30 and 7:40. One would think that if it's her job to monitor the visit, then she should be there, not leaving me and Phoenix to watch the parents inadequately watch their kids. Hurricane was running around and the mom kept calling out to the dad to get her. What the fuck, lady? How about you don't let her get off the bleacher in the first place? We took Hurricane to a football game a few weeks ago and she sat there the whole time. Not once did she play on the stairs, but on Friday, she was all over the place. Fucking idiots. Then the mom is trying to talk to me about how she should get the kids back, asking how we manage Hurricane, and then is all, "You know, if you're ever having feelings or need someone to talk to, you can call me." *blank stare* Umm, what? I wouldn't call this woman if she was the last person on the planet and I was going crazy not talking to anyone. I'd choose insanity over talking to her. No joke. What bugged me the most was that she reached out and put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed my shoulder. Don't fucking touch me, you whack job! Of course, I can't say this because I need to be nice, but whatever. I was sitting there wishing I still smoked so I'd have an excuse to walk away, out of the school, and like across the street to smoke. I'd gladly walk a mile to "smoke" to get away from her. Instead, I sat there, willing my hives to stay at bay and for her to stop touching me. Then she says she's going to go looking for the CPS worker because at that point in time she wasn't there yet. So, off she goes. Phoenix had gone with the dad to change the baby. Finally, I had a break. Apparently, she didn't go looking for CPS--No, she went to her car to pop another pill or do whatever it is she does because she was even more high after that. Dad apparently went to the parking lot looking for her and we're guessing they fought because they weren't the same when they came back. Luckily, CPS showed up and they stayed the hell away from us for awhile. Seriously, I am never going anywhere that woman goes again. She's so whiny and when she's high she speaks incoherently and I just want to strangle her. (I do hope you all know I'm not a violent person...These are just my thoughts and I'd never act on them.) She's also a nagger...Like she nags more than any Jewish woman I've ever met. It boggles my mind. If Phoenix nagged me like this woman nags her husband, I'd be like, "Peace out, yo!" Seriously!


I guess we were only at the game for about 2 hours, but it felt like I'd been there for days. Finally, halftime was over. Sir Complains A Lot did pretty good. I'll give her that. Once it was over, we wanted to go because we had to work early on Saturday. So, we say we need to head out. We all start going out and the mom says she wants to get Sir Complains A Lot a drink because she's thirsty. She wanted to get her a soda to which Phoenix said, "No. They don't put lids on them and it's not going in my car like that." Not to mention, it was 9pm and a 7 year old doesn't need a soda. So, the mom says she's going to get her a water and gets in line. I'm like, "Are you kidding me!?" On the inside...lol. I said nothing out loud. I know when to bite my tongue. I told Phoenix I was going to pull around the car after waiting for a few minutes. Well, as I head out to the parking lot I see the mom hurrying towards the parking lot. WTF? She was just in line for a drink! So, I call out to Phoenix and tell her that the mom is going to the parking lot. Everyone is equally as confused as I am. Now, this woman with the "fractured" foot, wearing flip-flops, is hauling ass out to the parking lot. Like seriously. I walk pretty quickly, but she was going very fast for someone with a "hurt" foot. She was so high, she forgot where she parked. I finally called out to her and she turned around and stared at me for a moment like I was a stranger, then she recognized me. "Oh! Heather! There you are! I was looking all over for you guys!" I said, "What the heck are you talking about? You were supposed to be getting a drink! Why are you out here?" She said, "Oh, they wouldn't take debit." Of course they wouldn't...It's a high school football game, not a fucking Cardinals game! I said, "Well, everyone is coming out. I'm pulling the car up." It took like another fifteen minutes for the mom to hug the kids and kiss them repeatedly before letting us go. Yes, I'm sure it's hard to say bye to your kids, but the longer you drag it out, the worse it is. And she was being so annoying. She was trying to tell me to go through a drive thru to get a drink for Sir Complains A Lot. I told the kid, "We'll get you a drink at home." She was okay with that. I'm telling you, the whole thing was such bullshit. The CPS worker should've been there on time and I never should've had to sit anywhere near that crazy woman! I don't know why they can't do their jobs properly...I'll take care of these kids, but I don't want to deal with the mom...ever. And so help me God, if that woman shows up somewhere high again, I'll fucking call her out on it since no one else will. It's such bullshit! CPS should've told her that she needed to leave on Friday night.


Okay, that's my rant...I need to go iron my work clothes since the CEO and his pals (the dudes who sit on the board of directors) are coming to work on Tuesday. Apparently, they want us to pretend we dress professionally all the time...Sure, I do...if you consider t-shirts and shorts professional!! HAHA! Peace out, folks!

I'm going to throw myself under the bus...

So, this has been a pretty rough year and I have yet to figure out a way to deal with the stresses that keep getting flung my way. I feel like a rubber band being stretched too far...And then stretched a little further...And maybe a little further. I'm barely holding it together. Earlier in the year, I started smoking again. I know a few of you knew, but not many and really, only the people who see me all the time. I felt guilty the whole time I was smoking again. I mean, what kind of jackass goes through the hell of quitting only to go, "Hmm...Maybe I should smoke again?" *raises hand* Me. I do. I'm an idiot. I didn't smoke as much as I used to and it wasn't like before. I mean, it sort of helped me deal with the stress and kept me from wanting to pull my hair out, but I knew I needed to stop. I had considered stopping when we got the house, but then shortly after we got the kids and then the house flooded. Then we were going on a family vacation and I didn't want to be going through withdrawals in Hawaii. Then we got back and my parents came to town. Again, not a good time to be going through withdrawals. So, I waited...


It's been two weeks since I quit again. I still find myself, from time to time, wanting a smoke. Mostly, these times come after listening to Phoenix help Sir Complains A Lot with her spelling words. (I know, some people suck at spelling, but really, "tried" doesn't start with a "ch"!!! How many times do we have to say that!? And when Phoenix tells her to spell it again, she again says, "C...H...I...--" *pulls out hair*) I'm a mean, horrible person. I know. I'm okay with that. I also would like a cigarette after taking phone calls at work. I can't keep doing my job for much longer. I have no idea how to respond to some of the fucking morons I talk to. I had a guy freaking out on me yesterday because he's at his default APR. Well, duh, fuck face, you've been over the limit three times in the last six months and surprise, surprise, you're over the limit AGAIN! No, I can't fix it. No, I cannot promise that it'll be lowered if you pay it down. Then he said, "I'll cancel the account." I said, "Okay, I can cancel it for you." (I love to call their bluffs!) Of course the pussy said, "No! Don't cancel it! I'll keep it open and that payment I just made (It was made three weeks ago.) was the last dime you'll get from me! I'll go bankrupt on it. I don't care! I'm 77 years old! I don't need to pay my *insert my company's name here* bill to get into Heaven!" And then he hung up on me. You know, I'm not the enemy...I'm the messenger. I don't like being killed day in and day out. And won't he be surprised when he gets to Heaven's Gates and finds that without our card, he won't gain entrance? I can't stand being yelled at. I got screamed at by another man the other day because we had sent him a solicitation email. OMG! It's the end of the world as we know it. He literally screamed at me, calling me stupid and an idiot, and telling me he doesn't have time for this bullshit, blah, blah, blah. Mmmmhmmm...Me neither. Of course, he hung up before I could tell him that even though I took him off the list for marketing emails, mail, and phone calls, it can take up to 12 weeks for it to stop. Oh well, fucking idiot. Still, these people make my head ache...badly. And my fingers get itchy for a smoke. I've been good though. Even when Phoenix has told me that it's okay if I give in sometimes...She knows...I haven't been sleeping that great. (Until I discovered Melatonin, which is a God-send. Seriously! I actually got some sleep!) I just feel so on edge and I'm scared I'm going to end up snapping because I always feel stressed out. And the other day I realized how bad it was...


I went to the local grocery store the other night to get something we needed. I somehow ended up with a container of chocolate ice cream too...*shifty eyes* Perhaps I should've opted for the margarita mix instead. Oh well, that's neither here nor there. So, I go to the self-check out and swipe my member card when a man comes stumbling up to me. "Can I help you?" he asks. Me, giving him a sideways dirty look, "No. I'm fine." He says, "We're all humans. Just let me help you." Me, "No, seriously, I'm fine." It was then that I could smell the beer on his breath. Gross. He then says, "Whatever. It's my birthday today." *blank look* "Okay." Him-- "Jesus! You can't even say happy birthday? We're human, you should act like it!" Me, "Happy birthday." (I was trying to ring up my stuff faster and he was just slowing me down.) Him, "Oh sure, now you say something. You know, I don't know why people are so mean to each other. My mom used to call me a little faggot. She used to say, 'You're nothing but a faggot punk!' Can you believe that?" Me- "Must've been rough. Now really, you're in my way. I'm leaving." It was then that he stood in my way and I walked around him to leave. The fucker started to follow me to the parking lot and I immediately got a little scared. I mean, I got robbed all those years ago while working at Pizza Hut and I don't really need to be punched in the face again. As I spun around and glared at the fucker following me and then looked for a manager because they really needed to do something about the drunk fuck bothering people (Mind you, three managers were standing off to the side watching the scene unfold.), I found myself hoping--literally hoping--the fucking bastard would put his hands on me because I would unleash on the mother fucker. Can you believe that? I wanted to hurt him because he was repulsive and bothering me and smelled like beer and I was going to snap. I knew that if he touched me, I would snap and I was hoping he would.


*sigh* He didn't lay a finger on me. The store manager came walking over and I told him, "You'd better watch me walk to my car." He nodded and stood in front of the store, arguing with the drunkard. It was as I got into my car that I realized I need to find a way, and soon, to relieve my stress. I still don't know what to do, but I'm open to suggestions. Everyday when I leave work, I feel like crying and not just from the tension headache I'm normally sporting. Any suggestions? Anyone? Perhaps some kick boxing? I need something before I snap. I'm so scared I'm going to end up going off on someone at work and I need my job. And I guess going back to smoking isn't an option...Especially since I always feel a bit guilty for doing it. Oh yeah...And it's supposedly bad for your health.