8/1/2016 in meh...

  • Aug. 1, 2016, 9:04 a.m.
  • |
  • Public

When I typed that entry, I was on my son’s phone, tears streaming down my face, nose running, a bottle of cabernet sauvignon at my finger tips and my daughter looking at me.

She asked if I needed some tissue. I said no.

This morning, I woke up one of many times as I often do to hit the can and go back to bed. She was on her way up, dressed for work. It was raining. So she eventually left and I was awake thinking about her in my home. I feel me gritting my teeth right now as I type.

I feel like I need to apologize to my neighbor for the increase in decibel levels.

Also this morning, there was a knock on my door. I wasn’t able to go back to sleep. When I opened it, my daughter was standing there crying. I wanted to smack her but that would only increase it. After like the 5th time asking what the hell was wrong she said the bus just passed her up and she needed this job. I almost said, you’ve needed every job you’ve had, but somehow you managed to screw them up. So I gave her an alternate route where she would be on a bus in the next 10 minutes. I understand the frustration, but come on. She was crying and I thought she’d gotten robbed or chased down or mistaken for a prostitute. That’s what frustrates ME about her crying. She never talks she just sobs and boo hoo’s and that keeps us miles away from figuring out what’s wrong so we can solve the problem. Had the nerve to say she didn’t get any sleep last night. Well since she didn’t wake up until 3 in the damn afternoon I guess she didn’t get any sleep. Always trying to be the damn night owl. She need to try her hand at prioritizing her life, developing some fucking patience, and stop aspiring to be ghetto queen of the year.

I at least have my rent paid. Told the landlord about the stove and the fridge. He’s going to remove the fridge and at some point get a new stove in there. With the extra fridge gone, I will rearrange the kitchen a little bit.

From now until she leaves, this will be one hell of an adjustment.

Unless I boot her first.

That scowl is surfacing as of yesterday. It had a trigger. She is always the trigger. And if it wasn’t for him, the grandkid, she’d be shit out of luck.


Last updated August 01, 2016


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