… Excuse Me While I Push A Railroad Spike Through My Eye

<– See this?

That’s me.

Well, the PICTURE isn’t me but the sentiment is the same.

Ok.. so first things first.

The baby is still in the hospital. He’s doing well.. gaining weight and filling out nicely. I’ll tell you, his ASS is healthy!! Boy of boy can that kid fill a diaper!!

I actually haven’t seen him since last Wednesday … almost a week ago.. because running off of 2 hour sleep, toast and coffee finally caught up with me and I picked up some kind of nasty something from the hospital that kicked my ass for more then a few days.

Honestly, I needed the break to catch up on the current season of Hell’s Kitchen.

Which, BTW, even I know how to cook a freakin’ scallop!! Come on, people!! :: smh ::

But I digress..

15 days old

Chief’s been going up to the hospital and even though there is no way in hell a camera in his hand is EVER a good idea, he was able to capture this little gem.

He’s a lot more alert and even though he still can’t be disturbed between his feedings, he’ll stare intently at who ever is holding him or feeding him.

Ok..

So that’s the update.

Now..

You KNOW :: or you should by now if you read me regularly :: that there’s a reason why I’m posting this here instead of on the baby’s blog.

So this past Friday night, Chief and I went to see my godson and his girlfriend. It’s usually an every two week visit because they just moved into their own place together and I like to keep tabs on him. Plus, how cool are THEY that they want to spend their Friday nights with the old folks????

This particular Friday it was out turn to go over there place and they were awesome to have bought the baby a bunch of stuff. My godson’s girlfriend is super duper excited about the baby and a fun time was had by all.

Until the ride home.

It’s about 9pm and the phone rings. It’s Weed from prison. On a free call. Which means one thing. They released him and he needed a ride home.

You want to talk about acid reflux shooting up your throat and burning a hole through your voice box?

I’m not going to go verbatim with the convos because this is going to be a long enough post as it is… but basically, Chief told him we were in another state and couldn’t pick him and to call the Crack Whore.  And then the texting started coming fast and furious and the silence.

The silence.

The silence is the worse thing of all because I know what I’M thinking… mainly.. you better not fucking tell him.. or her.. to drop him off on my doorstep.

I can only surmise.. because of the silence.. that HE’s thinking how the hell am I going to tell Leese that he’s going to be dropped off on our doorstep?

So we drive for like, another 20 minutes or so, and he’s not saying anything and I’m not saying anything. I’m not sure what his exact words were when he finally DID say something.. but it was something to the effect of “… she hasn’t texted me back so I’m guessing she’s going to pick him up”

To which, I replied “… or do you mean she’s going to pick him up and take him to our house?”

He said he didn’t say that to which I said that I didn’t know what he was saying because he wasn’t saying anything to which he responded that his mind was all spinning at a mile a minute.

Whatever.

He went on to read the text messages between them ending with the one he sent that said he didn’t care where she took him but he can’t come to our house.

Appreciated the support there but as I told him, she does what she wants to do regardless of what anyone tells her because she gets to dump her trash on anyone’s doorstep because thinks that people who work hard for what they have should have to handle whatever shit she throws at them because after all.. she doesn’t work.. she’s basically homeless.. she doesn’t have any money.. blah blah blah fucking blah.

Anyway.. I had promised Chief’s cousin Bird that I would go with her to the hospital to see her father who had had a second major surgery in 2 weeks. She had gotten a call that he was out of recovery so she had asked if I would drive out with her. So I called her before we got home and she literally pulled up my drive way behind me. I tell Chief that I’d be back soon and away me and Bird went.

It wasn’t a long visit.. I mean, by the time we got to the hospital it was almost 11pm, but we stayed a little.. spoke with the doctor.. got the tv and phone situated and that was that.

I expected Weed to be at the house when I got home but he wasn’t. I also know how long it takes to actually be released and figured it was still a possibility that he could.

Chief was sleeping and he had the phone charging in the kitchen. I checked the text messages and there was an unanswered one from the Crack Whore asking if Weed can stay at our home for just 1 night.

I texted “NO” and went to bed.

He never did show up but Saturday morning he texted and asked what time he should come over to sign the custody papers.

FUCK.

I texted back and told him that he could come over anytime but I was low on gas and wasn’t going to pick him up. He said he’d walk over. I found out later that he had stayed over a “friend” of his’ house and so the walk was probably about 4 miles. In 98 degree heat.

Serves him right.

He asked about the baby.. was impressed with the nursery.. and the bottom line was he got lectured and talked to and lectured and talked to and lectured and talked to the whole time he was sitting on my couch.

He said all the things junkies say when confronted with their junkie-ness… how he was going to stop.. get a job.. get a place.. blah blah blah blah fucking blah. But, you know, the proof is in the pudding. And when he said that he didn’t have anything because all his clothes had been tossed by the guy he used to live with I told him that it was better to have lost nothing at 23 then to lose everything at 30.

Luckily, the guy who had given him a job before he got arrested offered to take him on again and I so I told him that he had more going for him that most people who got out of jail.

Fast forward and Chief took him to go see the baby. I couldn’t go because I was sick but I thought it was something that I didn’t need to be a part of.

A few hours passed and Chief came home.. he had dropped Weed off back in the old neighborhood where all his junkie friends spend their nights crawling under park benches getting wasted. Nice.

When asked, Chief said that Weed cried when he saw the baby and got embarrassed when the nurse said, “.. oh! you’re out of jail!”. Chief told him that everyone knew what the deal was it was what it was. I asked him if he was optimistic or pessimistic after the visit. Like OH! I have a SON! I NEED TO GET MY SHIT TOGETHER! or oh i have a son i need to get my shit together.

Chief said he was optimistic so I was like, ok.. good first step.

Sunday he walked over again early in the morning.

Sundays are usually family dinner day with my father in law.. brother in law and his wife. This Sunday Bubba showed up.

I kept my eye on Weed and Bubba because I know that Bubba is following into the drugs and alcohol foot steps of his older brother. I didn’t think he was stupid enough to bring anything to the house but I figured if they were together whispering in a corner it wouldn’t be a good thing.

Chief wind up taking Bubba along to the hospital with him and Weed. Again, I stayed home.

Chief and I drove them both back to where they wanted to go and again, I wasn’t excited about the fact that Weed wanted to get dropped off in a parking lot outside the old town we used to live in. But still.. I’m trying to be positive.

Monday comes and Weed doesn’t come over to the house. He had called earlier and told his father that he had gone to see his parole officer and then was going to the drug place to sign up for his court mandated outpatient rehab. He said he wasn’t going to come over because he didn’t feel like walking.

Nice. And your…… son?

Okay.. so maybe because he had to walk to probation (maybe) and then had to walk to rehab (maybe) he was too tired to walk to the house.

Maybe.

Personally, I would walk 100 miles if my kid was in a hospital but you know.. I’m not a junkie.

So now it’s Tuesday.

Spaz turned 14 and both his brother’s said that they would be over to help him celebrate. I wasn’t thrilled about it but it was Spaz’s birthday not mine so I was going to suck it up.

I got home from work at at 630pm and when I walked into the house, Chief was in the kitchen.. Spaz was on the couch playing a video game. And that was it. No one else.

Spaz asked if we could go to a Chinese Buffet for dinner and since Chief had to pick up a motor for the pool filter near the buffet, we decided to go. I was waiting for a moment when I could talk to Chief and that came while we were waiting in line to be seated and Spaz went off to the koi pond.

I asked Chief if he had heard from his sons. He said Bubba called Spaz earlier to wish him Happy Birthday and that Chief called and made up some excuse about not coming over. First he said he had to go to his probation officer… to which Chief said that Weed said he had gone yesterday. And then… and then came the “um.. um.. um”‘s and that he meant the rehab place. To which Chief said that Weed said he went there yesterday too.

Weed didn’t have another excuse and Chief got pissed and hung up on him.

I got just as pissed hearing this. Not that I thought anything would change.. but I thought things would change. And now it’s painfully obvious that it hasn’t because what else would he being doing hanging around his old friends in the old town?

And just in case you think I’m exaggerating .. not that I think you are.. about how much of junkie this kid is here is a picture of father and son.

Does it make you want to throw up, too?

Mind you, the baby is tiny… just barely 6 lbs and he looks huge being held by a bag of skin and bones, doesn’t he?

So now, my cautiously optimistic attitude had turned into full blow CAUTION!

Thankfully, that court papers are filled out and will be filed on Thursday morning asking the court for full custody of the baby because both his parents are junkies with no permanent home, no jobs and no way to support either themselves or a baby.

Fingers crossed that this goes through without a hitch because I have a college fund I need to start saving for.

Calendars! They’re A GOOD Thing..

.. so about two years ago, (No Longer.. Maybe) Weed was living with us and in one of Dante’s Infernos with his drug and alcohol abuse.

NOTE: Let me just interject here that (No Longer.. Maybe) Weed was 18 when I came into his life and because I considered him an adult, didn’t really intrude on his privacy. Maybe I should have.. maybe Chief definitely should have but it’s just the way it was. Neither of us had no clue how deeply addicted he was.

.. anyway

So two years ago he gets arrested stealing crap out of our neighbors cars.. barefoot.. at four o’clock am.

We actually didn’t find out until the following day but that’s another store for another time and one that I really don’t think I want to revisit.

Anyway.. that arrest was what prompted the first stay in rehab and because it was his first offense, they were putting him in the ARD program. That being something which, had he completed, would have wiped his file clean.

But come on.. even YOU knew that wasn’t going to happen, right??

A year after his arrest, he was called into court about his fines. He hadn’t paid anything on them and you know, they take that seriously. So they sent this letter basically saying that if you don’t pay the fine then they were going to remove him from the ARD program and there would be another trial. Or A trial. There was never a trial the first go around.

So the day of the court date comes and he’s all begging and pleading.. and the Crack Head is doing her YOU NEED TO BE A FATHER screech.. and at that point, he had been going to school to get his GED .. or no, wait.. he had just taken the test for his GED.. and so I told him and Chief that if he worked at the store everyday then we would send a hundred dollars a week up to the courthouse and his fines would be paid off by like March or something.

Mind you.. this was December? January?

I even typed a letter from Chief to the court explaining the situation and what he was committing to, etc.

We also sent him up to the courthouse with, I think, 113.00.. which was 10% of what he owed.

I figured that taking 20.00 a day out of the register wasn’t going to hurt us.

And it wouldn’t have.. if anyone did it.

You know.. maybe I’m part of the problem here but I am not going to have all this shit on my shoulders. These aren’t my kids.. she isn’t my ex.. they’re his problems that HE needs to deal with and be responsible for. I can’t help it if I refuse to treat a grown man like a child. I had 18 years of that with my first husband and promised myself not to let it happen again. Sometimes it sneaks up on me but when I catch it.. I do an about face and things like (No Longer.. Maybe) Weed’s fines don’t get paid.

Not that (No Longer.. Maybe) Weed was even worried about it. Did he ever ask about it? Did he ever put money aside from the 10 or 20 that Chief would give him if he worked longer then his self-imposed two hour shift?

Nope.. nope.. annnnnnnnnnnddddddd Nope.

So then in May? June? He had another court date. The judge told him that he had to have the fines paid by September 15th. No more extensions. If it wasn’t paid then they proceed with trial.

Now I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The kid has come around since last year.. he works every day.. and does work when he’s there, not just sits around.. and he was putting applications in for a job… and so I was like, alright. I’ll do my best to make sure it gets paid.

Which meant, that I was use my unemployment check to pay it off. I figured we could finagle the house bills for two months.. as long as the house rent was paid.. we’d make it work.

Oh.. poor delusional Leese.

I wasn’t able to actually put anything on his fines until August. My intention was to put 500.00 on it at the end of August and then the way my checks fell, I would be able to pay the remaining 450.00 of it by the second week of September.

Except in August, Chief needed 200.00 to cover a check he wrote for the store.. and then we went to Washington DC and I had to tap into some of the house rent money so by the time I got another unemployment check, I wasn’t able to pay the 1000.00 / 375.00 like I usually do .. it was something like 800.00 / 550.00.

So I had 300.00 for (No Longer.. Maybe) Weed’s fine but then Chief needed 250.00 for the store’s rent.

NOTE: Now do you understand why I went absolutely bat shit balls on Chief when he made the comment about giving him the money back for paying my tickets????

Oh.. and because I hadn’t paid the previous month’s electric bill because I put money on (No  Longer.. Maybe) Weed’s fine, it got cut off.

So I started to get REALLY pissed off that I’M the one paying for these fines while Chief and the shop are just sucking up any additional money that I have.. and the Crack Whore is always crying broke since you know.. she has all these men paying all these bills and she spends the summer laying on the beach turning into a raisin.

This past Friday was a bad day because of the oven (which I’ll still post about because it’s never really about the oven!) and I was waiting for a guy to come and look at it but he never showed.. and so when the mail came and it was from the county courthouse addressed to Chief and stating that there was a warrant out for his arrest and he had 24 hours to turn himself in.. well, let me tell you.. that was the last straw.

I called him up and told him what came in the mail and that indeed.. it was the last straw.

You see, a while ago he had child support court and after waiting all day to be called, they took some kind of break and he went off ont he court bailiff. To the extent that he got a 400.00+ fine for disorderly conduct that he never paid. That’s what I thought THIS was referring to but after looking it up the docket online, I found out that this was for (No Longer.. Maybe) Weed :: I forgot that he lived here when he was arrested :: and they sent it out because he missed a court date on Sept 7th.

Chief said that he had mentioned something to him about court but (No Longer.. Maybe) Weed said he didn’t have it or he didn’t know about it or something.. don’t remember.. and really, honestly, don’t care.

When Chief looked at the paper on Friday, he said that he would tell (No Longer.. Maybe) Weed on Saturday about it but I don’t think he did.. I don’t think he told him Sunday and I really doubt that he told him today.

Should I have remembered? Maybe.. but you know what? I can’t keep track of everything and why should it be more important to me then it is to them?

I don’t get it..

I don’t get them..

.. And Yet Another Weed Update

.. so Saturday, Weed started trying to call collect from prison and we had to go through the whole phone set up again.

NOTE: In case you weren’t aware :: and really, why should you be :: an inmate just can’t call collect and have you accept the charges. You have to set up a pre-paid account :: either on a website or by phone :: and add money to the account. This is the only way that the call will go through when you agree to accept the charges. This is fucked for a number of reason .. although now you can use your cell phone where as before, you could only use a LAN line and it could only be for certain carriers.. but if you over fill your account, you don’t get your money back.

Anyway.. so earlier, Chief calls me on Spaz’s cell phone because I left my cell phone at the shop. He tells me that he tried calling on the house phone but it didn’t go through. I told him that was because it was broke. He asked me how it broke and I told him that his sons dropped it too many times.

Oh.

He tells me that Weed called him and because we had set up the account, he was finally able to talk to him and he told me that he was going to call back again on the house phone.

Um. Yea. One problem.

DIDN’T YOU FUCKING REMEMBER WHEN I TOLD YOU THAT I SET UP THE STORE PHONE AND MY CELL PHONE BECAUSE THE HOUSE PHONE WAS BROKE??????

Another Oh.

So I tell him where the old store phone was and that he really should stick it up his ass in his back pack now so that he doesn’t forget it again. Then I asked him what Weed said.

Chief told me that Weed started crying and that Chief told him that he was the only one who put himself in there.

But then a customer came in so I don’t know if there was more to the conversation or whether that was the end of the conversation until tonight.

So we’ll see.

I also know that I re-affirmed with him again that he is NOT moving back into the house.

This morning I asked him what he thought would happen in court tomorrow and if the judge would send him back to jail or if he would release him on his own recognizance. He said he didn’t know but he might. I told him then that the Crack Whore can’t have him living with her anymore and he said that he knew.. that he had talked to her earlier and that he wasn’t touching the subject with her.

Ostrich? There’s your hole.

So that’s when I told him that he wasn’t moving back in here because he hasn’t learned a damn thing about respecting other people’s property and that he was doing in her place what he used to do in ours.

He said he completely agreed.

But we’ll see.

I may be moving out sooner then expected.

Update On Weed

Saturday we got a collect call from the prison that Weed’s in. You can’t accept the charges until you sign up for the prison’s telephone service. Personally, I think it’s a fucking extortion racket but who am I to say.

I asked Chief if he wanted to set up another account :: we had one for Weed before when he first got arrest a year or so ago but we couldn’t use that one :: and he said sure.

So I go online and it’s a new company with a new site and the option to transfer money to an inmate’s commissary account. :: Actually, you can’t do that for the prison that Weed’s in but I didn’t know that at the time :: .. I texted the Crack Whore to tell her that we set up a phone account and if she happened to hear from him before we do, then to tell him that he can call the shop’s number.

I realize that she went away for the weekend.. but this kind of shit is stuff that she’s more then too familiar with and I doubt that she would have told us if she had set up an account.

So she texts me back and tells me that she put 20 bucks aside for Weed’s commissary account :: that’s for stuff like snacks.. toothpaste.. etc. :: and asked if we would match it.

I told her we would and that I was going to see if I could do it online .. she said if I couldn’t then she would pick up the money on Monday and send it up.

Then she says that she knows he’s trouble but she still loves him and he needs to eat.

I respond that we all love him.. but he just needs to love himself.

THEN she busts out with:

K if he dont move outa my apartment i have 2 move.thats what my landlord said.so im abit stuck cause i will not put him on street

Uh-huh.

So there it is.

I told her that things have a way of working themselves out and that she should just go back to enjoying her vacation because time goes fast when your at the beach.

THEN I told Chief that there was NO WAY IN HELL that he was moving back in the house.

He agreed. He doesn’t want him back in the house either and at this point, he feels that the only thing that will help Weed is to stay in jail learning a lesson.

But today while me and Chief were having a fantastic day out and about :: I’ll post about that later :: I get a text from the Crack Whore asking when Weed’s preliminary hearing was.

I texted her the info and didn’t hear anything back from her.

When we got home, we both tanked out and sometime before I woke up, the Crack Whore had called twice. I hadn’t heard the phone so when I finally woke up, I texted her and and asked her what she wanted and that I wasn’t able to transfer money on line so I’ll give it to her and she can do what needs to be done with it.

She texted back:

See what happens tuesday i cant take off work and truly cant afford his b.s. this is his prob im sick of it.

And then..

He cant live here anymore.words from my landlords mouth

So I ask Chief which is the non-pilled up Crack Whore .. the one who can’t bear the thought of her son on the street or the one where she’s already packing his bags?

We’ll see what happens on Tuesday. Chief is going to go down to the court house and I asked him if he wanted to close the store for me to go with him. He’s on the fence. One side of him doesn’t want to lose anymore money on this kid.. the other doesn’t want to go there by himself.. without the Crack Whore yapping in his ear.

So I’ll keep you posted.

WARNING: I’m Playing The Violin And Playing It So Hard That Nero Would Be Proud

Ok..

So I’m not usually a violin player .. and don’t usually do the whole “poor me” thing so maybe it’s a full moon .. or the incoming snow.. or maybe I need a good stiff fudge caramel sundae.

Or a roll of SweetTarts .. my SweetTart consumption has been exceedingly low lately.

But here’s the deal…

So we have two vehicles. My Mercury Sable station wagon and an old Astro van that his uncle gave us less then a year ago. Since Chief’s license was suspended, I’m doing ALL the driving .. everywhere. So naturally, I drive my wagon.

I HATE DRIVING THE ASTRO.

There’s no leg room .. it’s not comfortable.. but it’s a necessary evil when going to the wholesalers or Home Depot so if I have to drive it .. I do.

The inspection was up on the Sable at the end of January .. and since I cannot afford either the inspection OR insurance until the end of this week, I’ve been forced to drive the Astro full time.

NOTE: I don’t normally drive without insurance .. it was a matter of finances so I bit my tongue.. developed another ulcer and made sure I didn’t go too far or drive unlike an 98 year old man with a handicap palcard.

Anyway.. there’s something wrong with the Astro. A few months ago, before it started getting cold, Chief had mentioned something about some kind of screen needing to be cleaned that has something to do with the transmission. I have no clue what he was talking about but he set something up with the mechanic across the street from the shop to fix it on the side.

But, of course, you know what happened.. we didn’t have the money when the mechanic stopped by for it .. therefore.. it never got fixed.

So when I started to have to drive it full time, Chief told me to not push it to go into gear.. because if I did I could drop the trans and then it would cost something like 1700.00 to fix.

He told me how I needed to drive it and that was that.

So last night, I drive Spaz to the church’s youth group.. only the youth group wasn’t meeting for some reason so we’re driving back to the house and I’m approaching the intersection of a main boulevard. The approach is uphill so even thought the Astro won’t go past 30 mph, I still have to give it gas to go up the hill.

I’m like.. a foot before the intersection and the light turns yellow.

I have to make a split second decision and OBVIOUSLY I didn’t make the right one because as I’m crossing the intersection on the now-turned RED light, there’s a cop who immediately puts his lights on.

FUCK.

FUCK TWICE because not only am I getting stopped but of course, I didn’t have my handbag with my driver’s license and registration.. and OF COURSE the Astro isn’t insured either.

So as I’m pulling over into the Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot because there isn’t a shoulder on the road we were on, I’m thinking that I really need to start shaving my legs daily because this is the second time I think I’m going to jail and having furry legs in a prison cell wearing a bright orange jumpsuit would probably just itch like crazy.

TO BE CONTINUED.. I have to drive Spaz to school

Okay .. so where was I?

Oh.. so we get pulled over by the cop and it’s not a borough cop .. it’s a township cop.

Not a good thing so what’s a girl to do?

As he approaches the car :: complete with moment to moment color analysis by Spaz :: I did the only thing I could do.

I know exactly what I did officer and I have no excuse for it.

I guess he was expecting me to try and weasel out of it .. or make up an excuse or argue with him or something and when I didn’t, he didn’t say anything.

So I continued talking.. explained that I was taking Spaz to youth group at church and because I can’t drive MY car, I had to drive THIS van and there’s something wrong with the tranny and blah blah blah and I had to make a split second decision and it was the wrong one.

Oh.. and I also told him that I didn’t have my handbag with me.

He actually started laughing. He said that he wasn’t laughing AT me but “.. that’s the best thing I heard all day.”

So glad I could make HIS FUCKING NIGHT!!

He asks me for my name, address and last four digits of my social which happens to be the mark of the beast. I mentioned that I wasn’t really the AntiChrist .. just a poor last minute decision maker.

He laughs harder.

He goes to his squad car and while he’s there, Spaz is saying all these things about him. I tell him that the man was only doing his job. I was wrong .. even thought the light WAS yellow .. and I would have to be responsible and take ownership for it.

The cop comes back and tells me that he isn’t going to write me up a citation RIGHT NOW for two reasons. One, he doesn’t feel like writing and two, the fines have increased and he wasn’t sure what they were.

I would have offered him my last SweetTart then if I had them because I was so damn relieved that I was neither going to jail nor having my van confiscated.

He also said that when I receive the citations in the mail, that I should SERIOUSLY consider checking off the Not Guilty box and request a hearing. He said that he couldn’t TELL me to do that.. but he was SUGGESTING that I MIGHT WANT to do that… explaining that these citations would carry points and if I went before the judge the cop MAY or MAY NOT be there and I might get off easier.

But he wasn’t TELL ME TO DO THAT mind you.. cause that would be like, illegal.

And he’s a cop.

So… yknow..

He then goes on to tell me that neither Spaz nor I had seat belts on and he has to watch out for the safety of not only us but other drivers..

He then went on to tell me that what I did was dangerous and something could have happened to Spaz or if it happened to ME, then Spaz would be traumatized.

He then went on to tell me the importance of seat belts and of not driving through a busy intersection with a cop sitting on the corner.

The whole time, my only responses were YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT and I HAVE NO EXCUSE.. I may have even said I REALIZE MY BAD DECISION COULD HAVE HURT OR INJURED US OR GOD FORBID SOMEONE ELSE. Don’t remember.

Then he was just going on and on and on and on.. and I felt like saying I GET IT ALREADY but no.. I didn’t.. I just bobbed my head like one of the dog statues in the rear dash of cars and took my lecture.

Finally, it was over and even thought I was relieved to be on my way back home I was now EXTREMELY petrified to drive the block and half to my house.

But we got there with no further drama with Spaz completely bouncing off the walls waiting for me to tell his father what had happened.

I knew it wasn’t going to be a big deal. I mean, let’s face it .. Chief has done some pretty creative things with cars in his day. And it wasn’t any kind of deal at all.

I think Spaz was a little disappointed.

So then fast forward to this morning. I had to drive Bubba to school.. which I really wasn’t looking forward to anyway .. but on the way there it seemed like the van was getting worse.

Fucking wonderful.

Plus I had to drive through the county and my police spider senses were in high gear and I’m anticipating every single green light would turn yellow and then red as soon as I started to go through it so you’re basically talking HELL with more then a capital H.

When I get to the store, I was in a “mood”. Woman will understand what I mean.. men, not so much.  It wasn’t that I was angry or upset or mad or whatever.. I was just in a “mood”. Because after the emotional roller coaster about Bella early in the morning, I just started questioning all the decisions I’ve made and how I’ve sunken this low .. to have two cars that aren’t insured that need tons of work that gonna cost tons of money that I don’t have..

Chief had been outside the shop talking to the crossing guard and when he came in he said it looked like I was on the verge of tears.

I didn’t think that I was.. I think I was just wearing a “face” .. but whatever.

He asked me what was wrong and I waved my arms around and said everything. I tried to continue with my list of “everything” and started off with the cars and he cut me off by saying, “.. that’s just life.”

You will never understand how inflamed I got at that moment.

“.. isn’t it?” he finished.

Maybe YOUR life, Bucky .. maybe YOU’RE used to living like this but I sure as HELL ain’t.

He mumbled that he would look at the van and walked out of the store. He came back in a few minutes later and said that the transmission fluid was low and went across the street to the garage to get some.

He put it in and the van did seem to run a lot better so maybe that’s all it was.

I dunno ..

What I do know is that something is going to have to either break or change and I’ve already done all the changing that I’m willing to do.