Wisdom

One of my father’s favorite sayings was:

HOW MANY TIMES DOES A DOG HAVE TO BITE YOU BEFORE YOU STOP TRYING TO PET IT

I learn lessons the hard way.

I haven’t been posting because there’s been a lot of turmoil.. and drama.. and W! T! F!s .. and it was bad enough living it let alone blogging about it. I had to come to terms with a few things.. whether I would accept them.. or distance myself from them or have-n0-clue-which-turn-to-take because of them.

Make no mistake.. I am a fighter. But I also know not to waste strength on a losing battle. I don’t see it so much as giving up.. rather, putting my best efforts to where they are 1) wanted and 2) most beneficial to me.

I’ve wasted too much time.. too much effort.. suffered through too much heart ache to continue being miserable.

I’m generally NOT  a miserable person.. I generally make the best of thing and GENERALLY let crap go where it belongs but enough is enough.

I have some heavy decisions to make about my future.. I have decided on the important things, it’s just the logistics I have to figure out.

To those who have been following, I’m going to use this post to put the puzzle pieces together for you and fill you in on what’s been going on but I don’t think I’m going to continue doing that. For those that know my email address and want to be kept updated on the saga, feel free to write me..

So..

You all know that I put the computer on lock-down because Bubba refused to do what he was suppose to do regarding the whole cyber-school thing.

Aside from the reports that the cyber school generates.. I’ve been keeping my own log on Excel. God bless the day I fell in love with Excel!

I know exactly how much time Bubba has spent on school work .. which assignments are over due.. the length of time he’s spend on each assignment down to the second .. everything. At a glance. He might THINK he’s smart because he can get over on his parent’s, but with me? No. I just have my hands tied as to what to do about it.

Anyway..

So last Friday, I had to drive Chief up to his job to fill out some paper work or something. We left at around noon. Bubba was still sleeping because even though the computer shuts off at 11pm, he was still staying up to the early morning hours watching tv and playing video games.

We get a text message from him around 1:30pm asking for the password to the computer. I was driving and couldn’t text him back so I told Chief to tell him that he needs to do his school work first.

Now, the day before I told him that he didn’t have to do his mandatory four hours if he completed all the master tests that needed to be done. He jumped at the chance because THIS IDIOT didn’t know how many tests he actually had to complete.. and to complete them all would take WAY more then four hours.

So about 2 or 2.5 hours go by and he texts again for the password. Chief was going to give it to him but I was like Uh-Uh. No.. ask him how many tests he completed first. The response came back that he did 3.. which, you know, if I BELIEVED him would have sounded about right. I half expected him to say all of them.

I still told Chief not to give him the password.. that he needed to wait until we got home to verify his work. Chief texted him back and when Bubba didn’t text back, I thought that was weird. No begging? No pleading? Nope. Because the fucking idiot GAVE him the password.. not only did he give him the password, he also have him the ADMINISTRATOR’s password.

Honestly, if we didn’t have our seat belts on and I wasn’t on the highway, I would have beat Chief silly with a tire iron.

We finally got home a few hours later and Bubba was gone.

Of course he was. He knew what was coming.

I checked the cyber school logs and not only did he NOT do the tests.. he didn’t do ANYTHING.

Shoving the laptop screen into Chief’s face, I asked him how it felt to be lied to.. how did it feel to have a 16 year old sucker you.. repeatedly? Just how DID it feel knowing that your 16 year old son thought you were a pussy and treated you like his bitch?

I’ll tell you .. he didn’t like it at all when it was said out loud.

He went on ranting and raving about what he was going to do.. (right) What he was going to say to him (don’t hold your breath).. And how things were going to be (suuuure they are) ..

I told him that he was all big and bad venting to me but as soon as Bubba walked in the door, he was going to be a cream puff.

I actually didn’t think Bubba was going to come home that night… but he did.. well after Chief was asleep and he knew better then to try and get on the computer because HE knows ME .. and he knows that I was going to do everything short of sinking the damn think in concrete and since I was the only one up, he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask me for a goddamn password.

So Saturday morning comes.. rather, it was Saturday afternoon before Bubba rolled his lump of flesh out of bed. And as expected, Chief did say something to him about being lied to.. but, as expected, followed it by asking if he wanted him to make him something for breakfast.

That’s his MO .. act like a parent then feel guilty afterwards.

Bubba complained that it was Saturday.. Chief said that he didn’t care.. Bubba said that HE did.. (I would have popped that son of a bitch in the  mouth right then.. but that’s me) .. Chief pulled out the list of all the tests he had to complete.. Bubba complained that there was 8 hours worth of work.. Chief said to only do 4 hours.

Both of them needed to be popped in the mouth then, by my estimates.

I was in the bedroom working on a project. Chief comes in and starts watching a movie. I tell him that he needs to be out there staring over Bubba’s shoulder. Chief is confident that Bubba will do the work.

SSSS.  UUUU.  CCCC.  KKK. EEE.  RRR

Not a half hour goes by and I smell the nasty ass cologne that the Crack Whore gave Bubba for Christmas. I thought I heard the front door but the dogs hadn’t stirred so I wasn’t sure.  I get up to look and sure enough, Bubba high tailed it out of the house. Mind you, this is a BIG kid.. we have hard wood floor  that vibrate whenever he moves around so I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did his best to sneak out. May have even used the back door because it’s furthest from where we were and would explain why the dogs didn’t bark when the front door was opened.

I went back in the bedroom and casually asked Chief if he knew Bubba had skipped.

“I do now.” he answered, and then went back to watching his movie.

Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously. Are you FUCKING kidding me?

He got all cocky with me and said, “.. what am I suppose to do? Call the cops?”

No.. you simple assed idot.. YOU CALL HIS CELL PHONE AND TELL HIM TO GET HIS ASS HOME RIGHT NOW

Nope. I was told he wouldn’t answer his cell phone anyway and why get more aggravated?

Well.. simple ass.. because YOU aren’t even aggravated! I AM! You see what’s wrong with this picture?

Bubba didn’t come home Saturday night. He texted my cell at 11pm and said “.. sleeping out”.

My response?

You can run away from your responsibilities but that doesn’t make them go away. Leaving only made things worse.

No return text.

Sunday night he texted again saying that he was sleeping out. The school’s had off on Monday so I didn’t count on him coming home Sunday.

He did come home on Monday. At 10:30pm.

Chief was already asleep and I had absolutely NOTHING to say to him. I thought about it long and hard over that weekend and realized that this isn’t anything CLOSE to being a family. I know other step parents are able to discipline their spouses’ kids.. step up to the plate and be a parent.. but those have supportive spouses. I don’t.. and if Bubba’s father isn’t going to be a father.. then I refuse to be the one who lays down the hammer all the time.. when I did, I only had it thrown back in my face.

But there’s more.. because there’s always more.

Tuesday rolls around and it’s another late afternoon rise for Bubba. I had gone out for most of the afternoon and while I wasn’t planning on returning to far into the night, circumstances dictated that I returned to the house around 4 or 5. I passed Bubba on the computer to get to my bedroom and while I was getting changed, he knocked on the door and told his father that the Crack Whore was picking him up so that she can help him study for his driver’s test.

Chief responded, “.. if THAT’s what your going to do”

Bubba says it is and leaves.

He hasn’t been back to the house since.

Around 11:00 that night, I said to Chief, “.. guess Bubba isn’t coming home” and he got all defensive saying, “.. he’s at HIS MOTHER’S.” .. like that’s any better then staying at his friend’s? Because she has a computer and you know he’s going to be up all night being the Top Cop of Pretend Town .. exactly what he wasn’t allowed to do here.

Wednesday morning I went out and when I returned home, the Crack Whore had sent a text saying that she had had a long talk with Bubba and that he wasn’t going to go out driving unless he does his work and to have his social security card and birth certificate for when he goes for his permit.

Chief then tells me that he sent her a message via Yahoo and told her about Bubba and his school. Whatever.  I’m the one who knows where they’re at and guess what? You’re going to see just how spiteful a bitch I can be. Because like I said before, bigger and better have tried to roll me.. I’m not about to let a 16 year old do it.

Thursday comes and goes with Bubba doing about an hour’s worth of work.

Friday comes and goes with Bubba doing no work at all.

Saturday .. Sunday.. nothing.

Today? 8 minutes.

The Crack Whore sends a text message. I didn’t look at it, just handed the phone to Chief and told him the message was for him. She must have asked him to call her because he dialed and asked “what’s up” when she answered.

She said that Bubba wanted to go back to regular school .. that he’s been asking to go back to regular school and Chief won’t send him (lie) .. Chief told her that he did inquire but that if he went back, he was going to fail the year because he’s too far behind .. he told her that he wasn’t trying to be a dick towards him… he’s just worried about his future (when exactly did we move to dilusion-ville?) .. he told her she had to be a bitch to him about his work because the only reason why he’s there is because he can’t do what he wants to do here.

She said fine and that she was going to swing by after she went where she had to go and pick up some of Bubba’s clothes.

This was at 8pm? It’s now 4am and the clothes are still on the dining room table because she never showed.

Considering the vast amount of chemicals she ingests, do you really think she’s going to get Bubba to do his work? Do you really believe that Bubba doesn’t know that she goes into a drug induced coma leaving him free to do what he wants to do?

Are you asking the same questions I am?

Don’t bother.. you’re wasting your time and I am the expert in wasting time asking logical questions of the illogical. The answer is that she will do whatever she can do to disrupt anything in the kid’s life. I’m also expecting custody papers in the mail because you KNOW she’s not going to have him living with her and NOT try to get some monetary gain .. especially since Chief is working now. The last time Bubba stayed there, she filed for custody the next day.. so you know, I’m not going to be surprised when they arrive.

As far as Chief goes? I really don’t know why he wanted custody to begin with ..

Me? Well, I finally stopped trying to pet the dog.

Even thought I know he doesn’t realize it, our relationship has changed. I don’t have the hopes.. the dreams of the future.. the silly giddiness I used to have when being around him. Anymore I just feel regret and contempt. I don’t look at him the say way .. I’ve lost respect for him as a man and a father..

It’s time for me to go..

 

THIS Is Why Things Are The Way They Are..

The other night when Chief and I were walking the dogs, I happened to look up at Weed’s window on the second floor and saw some kind of sheet or curtain half hanging off .. it’s one of those two windows right next to the other kind of deals so whatever was hanging was hanging half of the left one  like it was just stuck on a nail.

If there’s ONE thing I CANNOT tolerate it’s Ghetto Window Treatments.

I mean, I’ve actually moved one time when the neighbor across the street was tying their curtains in a know instead of investing $1.50 in a freakin’ bracket set.

So when I saw that, I pointed at it and said to Chief, “.. WHAT the HELL is THAT!!” .. and not in a questioning kind of way .. if you know what I mean.

Chief understand far to well my obsession with Ghetto Window Treatments so he called up to Weed and told him to take it down. Weed does and I tell him that I have curtains for him to hang up there.

Mind you, this room was empty prior to Weed moving back in here and I had taken the curtains down to wash and iron when I had cleaned the room many many months before.

At any rate ..

We go into the house.. I get the curtains.. and I tell Chief that he’s coming upstairs with me. He’s reluctant .. and I know why. He know I  know why but if I had to carry him up there myself, I would have.

The room is a disaster .. and not just by MY standards .. clean clothes all over the place .. dirty clothes all over the place.. soda bottles.. dishes.. food wrappers.. cutlery .. glasses.. cups ..

Oh HELL TO THE NO!

I told Weed that THIS wasn’t going to be ROOM NUMBER THREE that he trashes in this house .. and the only reason why he was even here in the first place is because we THOUGHT we were moving and now that we’re NOT.. he’s always going to be thisclose to being thrown out on his simple, non-working ass.

Chief tells him to get a trash bag.. I tell him that there’s an empty closet with a universe full of hangers and two.. COUNT THEM.. two empty dressers for his clothes.

Get to it.. and get to it NOW.

I hang the curtains while he’s picking up the shit and then I go downstairs to do what I had planned to do .. dye my hair and take a shower.

When I was finished, I went into the bedroom and asked Chief if Weed had finished cleaning his room. He said he had. Taken out his trash? Yep. Brought down his dirty clothes? Yep.

Why.. oh.. why did I believe this man?

The following day, a Saturday, I take the dogs out for their morning walk and one of the trash cans had fallen over in front of the back steps.

An empty trash can.

Hmmmm…

I check the second trash can.

Empty.

Double Hmmmm…

Trash pick up was Friday morning .. Weed was suppose to have cleaned his room Friday night .. so.. um.. where exactly was his trash bag?

So after Chief gets up that morning, I ask him again. “Weed cleaned his room, right?” .. Uh-huh. “So.. um.. where did he put his trash?”.. Outside in the can? “Hmm.. because the trash cans are empty” .. Well, the trash came. “Yea.. right.. that whole thing with Weed? That was Friday night.. not Thursday night.”

He started to wimper .. I donnnn’t knnnowww… I saw him take a trash bag down ..

So at this point, I know he’s lying and I decide to wait until I can go upstairs while Weed and Chief are occupied.

Because I know what I’m going to find.

That came yesterday afternoon .. Chief had to drive Weed somewhere and while I was gone I went upstairs and sure enough all the clothes are piled where they were piled and the trash bag, half full, is sitting in the middle of the floor.

When Chief came home, without Weed, I told him about the room.

His response?

I told Weed to clean his room because you were going to go up there!! I told him that if he didn’t I was going to here it and I know all about how things trickle down!!

He was like.. what? Almost giddy that he was right? Like, he had gotten the right answer on Double Jeopardy after wagering his whole pot?

And I looked at him like he was the simple assed inept mother fucker that he is.

Because it shouldn’t have Leese is going to check.. or Leese wants you to do it.. or you better do it before Leese starts on ME about it ..

It should have been CLEAN YOUR FUCKING ROOM RIGHT NOW

I couldn’t even say anything to him.. I had to walk away and go OUT of my way not to be in the same room with him because there’s no telling what was going to come out of my mouth.

I had to mull things over .. had to digest the situation more then I’ve been.. and the bottom line is that it’s not 2 against 3 in this house.. it’s 1 against 4.

In this house.. and to everyone beside me that lives in this house, I am a joke.

And Weed’s room is still not clean …

 

Dreams

.. did you ever have one of THOSE dreams?

The ones where you wake up and remember EVERYTHING?

O! M! G!

I had THE dreams of dreams earlier ..

I slept most of the day .. for two reasons.

1) I was up all night again so I didn’t actually go to bed until 10:30am

and

2) I was pissed off and torqued and all those other adjectives that applies to being pissed.

Just the thumbnail:

When Chief’s alarm went off yesterday morning and I was MORE then awake, I figured I would take the dogs out and give him a few extra minutes in bed. Nice of me, right? MORE then nice of me considering there’s still snow up to my knees out there.

Anyway..  I take the dogs and see that that’s crap all over the dining room and the kitchen is a wreck.

You, know.. the usual. Hmph!

And because Bubba’s lump of flesh is sleeping on the couch.. and because I don’t pay an obscene amount of money every month for his room to have him sleep on the couch .. I decided to go about cleaning the kitchen and living room in my normal pissed off manner (ie: banging doors.. talking out loud to myself.. etc.

Weed gets up and comes downstairs.. Chief gets up asks me what I’m doing.. I wave my hands around like a mime on crack like, “… what the HELL do you think??” .. and go back to wiping the floor down  with WAY too much Pine Sol!!

Have I mentioned that they hate the smell of Pine Sol??

HE thinks I’m talking about Bubba on the couch so he says something to him.. Bubba grunts an answer.. but goes into his room. I finish with the floor and then proceed to stomp around the living room and dining room picking up the fucking bottle caps.

Bottle caps. How many DAMN times have they been told about the fucking bottle caps?

So I say to Chief.. To Weed.. To Spaz in the shower and Bubba in his room:

See all the soda on the front porch? Tomorrow is trash and I’m throwing every single fucking one out!

Chief is all Yea! Yea! I hate those bottle caps! I keep telling you guys about the bottle caps!!

He goes into the bedroom .. I go out into the living room and then he comes out and says (you’re going to love this):

I hate waking up to you with a stick up your ass

And not in a I-feel-you-pain kind of way. HE sounded pissed and I was like, are you kidding me?? Really?

So I said .. I hate BEING UP ALL NIGHT WITH A STICK UP MY ASS!

He then asked me what my problem is and I said nothing has changed in four years.

Right away he was like, “No.. that’s not it” and I was like, “.. are you kidding me, dude? You asked.. I told you and now you’re saying I’m wrong? You know what? Think whatever you want to think.”

And then I didn’t talk to him for the remaining time I was up .. because when I get pissed like that.. when I know that I can’t have the conversation that needs to be had because you just want to believe that everything is full of rainbows and kitten kisses and don’t want to deal with reality, then why waste my time. I’m only going to get more pissed and say things that shouldn’t hit the air.

So that’s why I slept as long as I did.

At any rate…

So I had this dream.

We were at my grandmother’s old house is South Philly .. a huge three story corner property. Weed comes in with a girlfriend who kind of  looks familiar in real life but I don’t know who she is.. and then they’re followed by another boy and another girl.

They say something about having to take a bus to Montuak (I have no clue!) in the morning and they were going to stay over at the house. I’m fine with that.

Next thing I know, there are like.. 6 or 7 more of his friends over.

For some strange dream-reason, I’m fine with that too.

The sleep sofa I used to have in my old house is in one of the two middle rooms. Someone let’s it be known to me that two of the girls are going to sleep on that for a reason that escapes me. I immediately start pulling the bed out and realize that there’s something missing inside of it that makes the mattress dip but I remember thinking it’s sturdy and these are skinny little heroin-chic girls so I’m not worried.

I start making the bed and one of the girl’s says “.. oh, you don’t need to put a four part sheet set on there?” and I’m like, why not?.. and she tells me that whatever part is missing… is in fact, missing.. and they won’t be using it.

I explain that it’s not going to make a difference and she starts jumping on it to make sure..

Next thing I know.. and it does get fuzzy here.. is that I find out that they carry the sofa upstairs to the third floor where Weed’s room is and I freak out.. What the $%*((? How could you let them do that??? ect. ect. etc.

That’s followed by Spaz screaming that Weed is beating him up .. I run upstairs (for some reason the railing was missing) and go into Spaz’s room.. pull off Weed.. push him back towards his room and tell Spaz that I really like his bedroom and maybe he should stay up here permanently.

No clue!! LoL

Then Weed is behind me again yelling something and then I started yelling at him that I don’t care if he lives here but when he’s fucked up he turns into a monster .. and with those words, his hair started to stand up on end like a Michael Myers mask and his face gets all red and bloated and he starts yelling something.

And then it’s back downstairs and everybody is packing up and leaving and then Snooki and JWoww walk in and I’m talking to them about something when two of girls come back and start talking serious smack to The Snook and Woww.

Uh-uh!! Not having THAT..

So I get all up in this girls grill and tell her.. in the ghetto way.. how she’s not going to disrespect Snooki and JWoww and I’ll take her skinny little heroin chic ass out side and give her a beat down.

And then I woke up …

I won’t go into the OTHER dream I had where I was dating a guy that looked like Ceaser from The Fashion Show and he jumped into a lake to get cranberries.

That one was just too freakin’ weird!

The Power Of Saying, ‘.. I Don’t Care One Way Or The Other’

Heh.

So.. yknow.. I say that phrase all the time. Usually in response to “.. what do you want for dinner?” or “.. what movie do you want to go see?” or “.. do you think the world is going to end in fire or flood?”

The generic shit.

But yesterday.. well.. yesterday it just on this whole OTHER dynamic.

Bubba FINALLY left the house on Saturday. For a kid that you can’t keep IN the house during the school year, this summer you might have thought they both were locked IN because neither one saw actually sunshine since June.. and I swear Bubba has tan from the computer monitor.

So Saturday night was the obligatory phone call that he was sleeping over his “friend’s” house. Same drill.. “.. WHICH friend, Bubba.”

For the LIFE OF ME, I can’t understand why they don’t use their friend’s names. Like, “.. Can I sleep over Slick’s house?” or “.. Can Screwy Lou come over?”

Ok.

Sorry.

Minor side track there.

Anyway.. so he slept out on Saturday and then Sunday afternoon he calls to talk to his father.. who’s in the bathroom. I get asked when he’ll be finished and respond with “.. how the HELL should I know? Really!” but I tell him that he’ll call him back once he’s done doing whatever it is he’s doing in there.

So Chief gets done and when he walks into the room, I hand him my cell phone and told him to call Bubba.

“… well, what’s he want?”

“.. how the HELL should I know? Really!”

He calls and I hear him ask Bubba what’s in Fort BlahBlahBlah and how he’s getting there and how will he know that he’s there and how will he know that he’s not being lied to.

Ok.

Interesting.

So when he gets off the phone, he tells me that Bubba wanted to know if he could go to Fort Blahblahblah because his “friend” has a house there and the friend’s mother is going to drive them.

Um.

Ohhhhhhhhhh Kaaaaaaayyyyyyy

So I said to him that the “friend” lives one county over… Fort Blahblahblah is no where NEAR we’re we live and that the “friend” lives with both parents so it’s not like he was like.. going to stay with his father or mother or something like that.. AND!!!!! I’ve been to Fort Blahblahblah many, many times and it’s really not a mecca for anything fun.. quite the contrary.. and oh.. is there going to be an adult there because yknow.. the “friend” is a year or so older and BTW.. why is the mother driving them when the “friend” has a car????

Chief just stares at me the way he stares at the television when I’m forcing him to watch Project Runway and Heidi Klum’s boobs are not in display.

I doooooooooooon’t knowwwww… he whines. It’s too much to think about!!

Honestly. That’s what he said.

Hmph. Oh. Ok. So I just shrug my shoulders and say, “.. well, I’m just saying but I don’t care one way or the other.”

And you might have thought the Road Runner dropped an anvil on this thick skull (not that it would have damaged it) because he stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me with this LOOK and said, “… I hate when you say that. That you don’t care one way or the other.”

So I get the whole EXCUSE ME??? shrug going on and said, “.. Dude, YOU just said that knowing where your kid is, who’s he’s with and what’s he doing 50 miles away is too much for you to think about but ME saying that I don’t care one way or the other is WORSE?? How the HELL is that possible??”

He didn’t answer me.. because he couldn’t answer me.. because he knew I was right.. and he really should have learned by now that I’m ALWAYS right…

It’s a heavy mantel to bare but someone’s got to do it!! LOL!!

So he does what he does best and changes the subject. He had to go to the auto parts store because I needed back breaks on my car and honestly, if there was only one reason to keep him around it’s because he can change the brakes on me car!! LOL!!

Nah.. I’m joking.

There are other reasons.

But anyway.. so we’re in the car and he gets this wet kitten look and asks me if I really don’t care one way or the other and I looked at him and said, “.. riddle me this.. why should I?”

And again he couldn’t answer me because there really was nothing say.

He KNOWS… I KNOW he KNOWS.. he just isn’t capable of doing anything about it and like I like to remind him .. they’re HIS kids.. not mine.

And yknow… of COURSE I care. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t pay attention to the things the kids say when they don’t think I’m paying attention or find out who they’re with or where they’re going.. it’s ridiculous to think that I don’t.. but saying that wounded him and you know.. now he knows how it feels.

Three Years And Counting…

.. so Thursday was me and Chief’s three year anniversary.

OMG.. it feels like 90!! No.. seriously..  when I tell you we’ve packed A LOT of drama in the 365 x 3 days we’ve been together then that’s a HUGE understatement.

I started to list the Good, Bad and Ugly but it was too exhausting.

I really need a reality show… no lie. I really should get paid for living my life!

At any rate…

Chief had wanted to go out to dinner to celebrate but given our financial situation.. I really couldn’t justify spending the money when the rent for both the store and house were due. Sometimes you just have to say “.. what the fuck”.. and he IS a “.. what the fuck” kind of guy but that’s why I have to be the “adult” in most situations and be responsible.

Beside, in past years he’s always been good about getting me a diamond this or diamond that all on his own so I could forgo the usual this year and not feel slighted.

He did wake me up Thursday morning with a card and four rolls of SweetTarts.. It was definitely an Awwww!!! moment.

There was a little snafu in the middle of the day because, really, what would my life be without a snafu?? I can never get to point A to point B without a lot of twist and turns, yknow?

So the night before we had to pay the rent for the house.

The rent is 1400.00.. and because of the way my unemployment checks fall, I have to give them two checks. One for 1000.00 and the second for 400.00 dated for the day my next unemployment check falls.

My landlord.. dick that he is.. really doesn’t mind that. He knows the situation and he knows that the house is so OUT of code that he would have to sink a lot of money that he doesn’t want to into the house in order to re-rent it. So he basically leaves us alone.

Unfortunately, he isn’t local… so we have to drive something ridiculous like 20 miles to the rental office. It’s a pain in the ass but it’s something that has to be done and usually me and Chief take the ride at the end of the night and get some time together without the kids and dogs and cats.

So we drive out there on Wednesday night.. stopping at our store first so that he can get me TWO envelopes for the TWO checks that I’m turning over to the landlord.

I put the checks in their respective envelopes in the car.. write CAN DEPOSIT IMMEDIATELY on one and DEPOSIT ON AUG 11th on the other. We drive out to the rental office.. double park.. and Chief jumps out and puts the envelopes in the door.

Fine.

All’s good.. right???

Yea.. come on.. you read this blog.

Thursday afternoon, I’m in the store and the phone rings. It’s the landlord’s secretary. She’s asking about the second check.. which was actually 425.00 because I had to pay the rent a day late and there’s a 25.00 late fee for everyday that we’re late. It’s bullshit but yknow.. I’m not going to make any more waves then they make for me so I buck up the extra 25.

So she’s saying something about this check and I couldn’t quite get what her point was … I explained to her the why the amount was the way it was and what the HELL was the problem? She explains that she only got the one check and I’m like.. no, there were two envelopes. The other envelope has the check you can deposit right away.

She says she doesn’t have another envelope and puts me on hold to check the mailbox. In the meantime, I go into the back of the store where Chief is playing a round of Call of Duty and his dad is peeing in the bathroom with the door open (GOD!!!!!)… so I ask him if he put two envelopes in the door.

Then I ask him again because.. yknow.. he’s playing COD and never hears me the first time.

He said no. As a matter for fact, he only put one envelope in the door?

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??? WHAT THE FUCK DUDE!!!

I’m like.. completely taken off guard. I stomp through the store on my way to the car to find the other check when the secretary gets back on the phone and says that I might want to contact my bank because there was no other envelope.

OF COURSE THERE ISN’T!!! I screamed.. BECAUSE THE FUCKING DOUCHE BAG DIDN’T PUT IT IN THE DOOR!!!!

I apologize all over myself and tell her that I’ll drive up right away and give them the check so that they can deposit it before the bank closes.

Then I stomp back through the store.. grab my keys.. and tell the asshole that I have to drive the TWENTY MILES UP AND BACK on less then a quarter tank of gas.. because HE’S an IDIOT.

I don’t wait for him to say anything and my father in law has the good sense not to say anything either.

When I tell you I was pissed.. believe me. I was pissed. More pissed too, because I didn’t have any cash on me to get gas for the trip.

On the way up, I was almost in tears.

On the way back, I came to terms.

Whether I like it or not.. whether it makes my life easier or harder.. he is who he is and I married him. I either have to accept him.. and accept the stupid, bullshit things that he does.. or I don’t. Either I assume responsibility for handling everything that has to do with the house and finances, etc. or I don’t. Either I stay married… or I get divorced.

And the thing is.. there are things that I am just better at. Paying the bills on time and managing money being at the top of the list.

With everything going on OUT Of my control ( read that as being his kids ) .. I have to control the things that I can and I can’t fault him for not being the person I WANT him to be… and for all his faults, he does have more redeeming qualities that maybe I don’t talk about enough here.

It’s really as simple as that.

So by the time I got back to the shop, I was over it.

And when I walked into the store (( behind the cop who was asking if anyone from the shop had called 911.. but that’s ANOTHER story ))  he stopped slicing a customer’s order and just hugged me.. telling me how sorry he was and how much he loved me.

I appreciated his sincerity more then he could ever know..

I stayed for a few more hours and when I was getting ready to leave, he said:

HIM: I have an idea!!!!!! Let’s recreate our first date!!!

ME: Um.. yea.. I don’t think you can..

HIM: What do you mean?

ME: Dude.. you don’t have it like that no more. You’d need to close the store and take a four hour nap first?

HIM: Why? We went for coffee that night

ME: Yea.. and fucked for five hours straight afterwards..

HIM: Ooooohhhhh…. yea….. that’s right! Raincheck, maybe??

Just so you don’t get the wrong idea, I don’t make it a habit of having sex with someone on the first date.. there’s a back story to that but that’s another post for another time..

In the end, we had hot dogs for dinner because we were broke and the boys were home. We locked the dogs out of our room.. put a blanket on the floor and ate our hot dogs pretending we were sitting at the primo table at the Palms.

Sometimes.. you don’t need a lot of money.. and sometimes, you just have to accept things the way they are and be happy in it.