Okay, so I stole my title from a line in a Pearl Jam song...So sue me! It's how I feel lately. I realized that like a week and a half ago when I was driving home and that song (For those of you not in the know it's called, Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town...Yes, it's like the longest title for a Pearl Jam song.) came on my iPod and I found myself rockin' out to it and when it got to that part, I was literally shouting it...Hmm...Apparently, I need an outlet. Luckily, I drive home from work alone so no one is forced to listen to my lousy singing voice. I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. That's not the point though...The point is this--My fucking head hurts.
There's been so much stuff going on and I am just swimming. Just like Dory in Finding Nemo--Just keep swimming. I feel like I'm barely treading water though and I'm not sure what I can do to change it all. Everything just seems to get so fucked up so quickly and then I find myself, surveying the nuclear fallout going, "What the fuck just happened? How did this happen?" And it's never anything huge--No, it's always the small little things that you don't notice. Like getting a third kid. lol Okay, that's not little, but you know what I mean. We had two foster kids...What's a third kid? Well, let me tell you--It's HUGE! It seems like a little thing, especially since he's only two, but fuck me running...No one wants two two year olds. If Phoenix and I ever have twins, I'm moving out and will return when they're all grown up. Suddenly Hurricane is instigating all kinds of shit and can't go three seconds without going into meltdown because she has to have everything Mr. Mischief has...or beat him. Beat him going downstairs, upstairs, out the door, to the kitchen table...Anywhere and everywhere. She will push him, hit him, and bite him to beat him. I'm not altogether sure that he knows it's a competition. We've had him for nearly a month now (Or maybe a month...I don't know.) and they keep saying we won't have him much longer because they found a family member to take him, which is great because I'm pretty sure we'll have the other two until they grow up and get married. I'll be sad though because I really like Mr. Mischief...He's adorable...And not a girl with girl drama. *grins*
So, we got the third kid thinking it'd be all right. It changed everything. Not only did Hurricane start acting up, but so did Sir Complains A Lot (Hurricane's older sister). Not so much with us, but at Daycare. So not cool. Whilst dealing with the shit with the kids and the holidays, work has gone to hell in a hand basket. I cannot stand my job. I find myself getting nauseous each morning when I have to log in to take that first call. I know, no one calls their credit card company because they're happy. No, they all call because they're fucking idiots with their heads so far up their asses they have no idea which way is up. But I never know if I'm going to get that person that's going to lose it on me or the one who is totally cool and then gets a survey and goes fucking postal in the survey about shit we never talked about because they're passive aggressive fuckheads. If you have a problem and you don't tell me, then I can't fix it. Weird how that works, huh? So, yeah...My scores at work totally fucking tanked because people suck hairy schweaty balls. Extra bonus money? Oh no, I think not. Who needs money anyway, right?
Speaking of work, we just got word that they're changing the way they pay us out for the bonuses and for our sales...In reality, I'm pretty sure they're trying to find ways to pay us less because if I get even just a few bad surveys, I'm only going to get a percentage of my sales. It's not fair. Yes, I know, life isn't fair...Blah, blah, blah. I get that. I'm not having a pity party, but if I earn something, I should get it and some asshole who can't handle the responsibility of having a credit card shouldn't have the ability to take that away from me. If I'm being immature or something, then by all means, call me out, but I think I'm right in this. That's like if you're a waiter/waitress and you earn your tips, but all month they go in a bucket and you know you have like $300 in tips. At the end of the month, your boss comes up and says, "I'm only giving you $150 because a few tables said they didn't like our food." Would that be fair? Or if you cut hair and your boss says they're taking away some of your tips because one of your clients doesn't like the person they spoke to at the desk on the way in or hated the music playing in the background. Would you like that? No, you'd be like, "Fuck you!" Except, I can't say that...I had to sign on the dotted line saying I'd be okay taking just a cut because if I didn't sign, I wouldn't get my pay out at all. I might as well have signed my soul to the devil...That's how I felt.
In our "private lives", not that we have those because I like to share my life and times with the world, Phoenix has been having a rough time. Her Aunt Prudence, who was technically a Step-Aunt and only 39, passed away on December 30. She had been battling cancer for the last three or so years. It was really horrible and I felt so bad. Phoenix basically grew up with her since Prudence was pretty young when Phoenix's dad got with Prudence's sister (Phoenix's step-mom). We spent a lot of time with her family and I don't even know how that would feel. We went to the viewing and then the funeral. Along the way I found myself thinking that viewings are fucking morbid. When I die, I don't want people looking at me. And because I've read far too many Stephen King/Dean Koontz books, it was hard to go look at her because something in the back of my head said she may just pop up. I know, I'm sick and demented, but I can't help it. I knew she wouldn't, but it was still there...Like a warning, "Watch out!" But then when I went up there and looked at her, she didn't even look like her...Not that it was someone else and we were in the wrong room, but when someone passes on, it's not them anymore. It's not just bone structure and such that make a person...It's everything, they're personality and everything. Prudence didn't look like Prudence. It just sucks. Since that happened, Phoenix hasn't been okay. She's on edge a lot and I get it. I try to help how I can, but things are rough. It's hard with the kids and I feel like I spend a lot of my life now saying things like, "Don't do that," "Sit down!", "Don't play on the stairs!", "That's not a toy!" And so on and so on. I know she needs time to process what happened and it's hard because time is the one thing we never seem to have enough of.
So, in true Heather fashion, I decided to give up smoking once again. I quit before and went two years without smoking and then I started again because I'm an idiot. I quit a while back for almost a month, but I kept getting bad headaches, like to the point that I wanted to just lock myself in a dark room and not talk to people. Honestly, I was going to spend my spare time crying because my head had hurt so bad. Phoenix finally bought me a pack and was like, "Here." I shouldn't have smoked them, but then I did...And then more packs. So, here I am again. Five days of not smoking. I don't feel as edgy as I did the last few days, but my head is killing me. It feels like it's in a vice and someone just keeps twisting the fucking thing. For the first couple of days, I couldn't sit still. I was so antsy, I felt like an ADHD kid without his/her Ritalin. I never have issues focusing on things, but I couldn't the other day. I was hyper too, which is so not like me. I'm hoping to find some sort of relief from this headache. I've tried Motrin and Tylenol, but neither has helped. I can't handle it. I especially can't handle it when I have to go to work and take calls for 10 hours a day. Something has got to give here soon...I fear it's going to be my sanity. We'll see what happens...
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