Sickness - No Fecking Way - WTF, Seriously? in I am I Said.

Sickness: so for the past 10-days I have been sick, really sick. A year or two ago I was diagnosed with Lupus. This time it's pneumonia. I got shit from my boss. Nice. 14-years and ... yeah. So then, of course, I worry about my job. Without a job I lose my home. The one thing I've worked towards my entire life that has come to fruition without any issues. My HOME. A place, finally, where I have ROOTS...mine. I DID what no one else could do, not my 'family', not my 'husband', no one. Me. Meh. We're to have a talk this week coming. Today is the first day I have felt even semi-human, but I trekked my ass to work on Thursday. Ha! He sent me home. Temp is still hovering at 99* but a lot better than it was.

No Fecking Way: I get a call, Tuesday, from Deputy Douche's wife's sister. She called to tell me B mentioned how sick I was on FB. Imagine my shock, confusion, hopped on steroids reaction to her calling to make sure I didn't need anything, or need any help. blinks and looks shocked Yeah. I turned over some emails to her...from Douche. She called back awhile after that and left a message telling me, "Tamara, DDW's said "fuck it, I HAVE to meet this woman now, never mind what my attorney is telling me. I can't wait to meet you, so as soon as you're better, let's all get together for lunch/dinner on us."
Yeah. What. The. Fuck? Honestly? I'd looooove to go to their marital home, with the sister and wife there (no B) and have DDW's arrange to have him come over for some BS reason. I'd pay to see his face...his head would fucking explode! BOOM! In fact, my testimony alone gives DDW the upper hand as it proves "abandonment" over and over and over again. SCORE for her! Weird, doesn't hurt me or make me feel one tiny ounce of guilt to do this to him, either. Which is unusual, for me. Growth.

WTF?! Seriously?: So, yesterday I am sitting outside under the gazebo watching my birds in the early morning, sipping some coffee. Enjoying the quiet of my street before it starts its daily noise pollution. This dude starts talking to me on FB. Sends a FR, I ask how he knows me. He mentions this new kickass chick Heather I recently went out with as a group. I am like, "okay, she's cool." I see his FB page and he's my father's age, I can tell by the few photos that he is a legit hoarder, and he's just odd. Odd like one of those grown men who dress in period costumes and re-enact plays or something deep in the woods. Yeah. But he's nice enough and I am bored and will talk to anyone.

Next thing I know he's sending me all these love song links from the 50's or something. Erm, okay...creep factor is rising. Then he demands to come over and meet me. WHAT?!?! I say "No, I am sick as a wrung out dish sponge and I do not want any company. I look and feel like hell, besides, I do NOT know you...I do not invite people I don't know to my home." He gets his undies in a weird, creep poetic way...but snotty. Good, bugger off.

More to come. Battery on laptop is dying.