clickmom

this place sucks

I want to do another Texts I sent My Friends post, but I'm half way listening to a zoom talk on my phone.

I am tired. I am not physically tired, or emotionally tired. I am energetically tired. I just can't seem to summon the energy to live in this world where people don't care about other people. I will say this until the day I die. Decent people are wearing masks. I am not surrounded by decent people. Don't even get me started on the republicans who are willing to vote away human rights for all but a growing minority of old white straight (or, pretending to be straight, let's be real) christian men. I didn't know I was capable of hating groups of people with as much passion as I hate these people- I hate the haters. I am consumed with hate for the haters and it is wearing me out. I pray this is my last time I have to live through a life on this earth. I am ready for an eternity of something else. Don't get all panicked. I'm not taking my life- or anything like that. I could never do that to my kids! I am just saying, that if I was in a tragic accident and got to choose I'd be hustling toward the light. I am okay with not being here any more. This place sucks. And I would not choose it.

Donor

When I was in third grade my teacher had a bulletin board with a “word tree” on it. The students had to come up with words that the rest of us were unlikely to know and bring those words to school and then cross your fingers and hope you got picked as the student who got to present the word of the day, which the teacher would write on an apple shaped piece of red paper and then the student got to place it onto the word tree.

I’d ask my parents for help and my mom would tell me to read the dictionary. But my dad was a better sport and sometimes he would come up with words that were just insane sounding like lackadaisical and sometimes he would come up with words that were glorious because they sounded so simple and yet they were a complete unknown to me.

Also, this will become relevant, sometimes I wonder about the words on the wordle game or the octordle game. I’ve been wasting way too much time playing those and once solved, I often find myself looking around the room wondering if my spirits are sending me messages. Once I was lounging on the couch slamming down a box of gluten free lemon wafer cookies, feeling as if there might be better ways to spend my time and also playing octordle. Then, right next to each other came the words SLACK (I have become a professional slacker since this pandemic. Next level. I astound myself) and also OBESE (no explanation necessary). I looked around the room as if there could be a witness to the accuracy of my puzzle and wondered if somewhere a hard working thin person was solving the same puzzle and laughing about how wrong their puzzle was. Was Octordle trying to tell me something? Are my spirit guides trying to reach me through Octordle??

Anyways, today’s wordle was one of those gloriously simple words that my dad came up with. It’s a word that makes me smile every time I hear it because I immediately think of my dad. He was a good guy. I owe him. I miss him.

TISTMF with commentary

“I can not. I was just sitting there having a conversation with the husband about getting a pool. He wants a pool. He’s been perseverating on that for a while now ….. Or I should say HE WHO CAN BARELY WALK THINKS HE CAN CLIMB IN AND OUT OF AN ABOVE GROUND POOL. He also has plans for redesigning the patio area of the back yard.

I kid you not.

I’m done.”

Then we had a brief text exchange during which she expressed her belief that delusional thinking by a dying man should be accepted. Her father signed a 3 year car lease a week before he died. She had to pay for that car, which she could not actually afford, for three years.

I’m living in a world where the person who was supposed to be financially responsible for the well being of this family was….. reckless. I could be meaner, because “reckless” is the gentle version. I’m not putting up with more of that shit. I’m taking my anger and bitterness over not growing old on the porch of utopia with me to the grave. He gives and he rips the carpet out from underneath my feet. I’m not playing nice with that anymore.

Merca

The other day, I got on the highway. Wanting to be in the center lane I signaled, looked over my shoulder and made the move to move over a lane. Halfway into the lane I hear a horn blaring behind me.

Apparently the guy speeding up the left lane decided he needed to move to the middle lane too, and despite the fact that he was coming up on me from the passing lane going at a high rate of speed and I WAS SIGNALING he entered that middle lane, just behind me at that high rate of speed.

He honked at me. Scared the bee jeezus out of me too.

And you know what? Even though this dude was driving as if he was in a oneman drag race against himself I was afraid that he was going to be so angry that he would pull up aside me and shoot me. Welcome to America

I’m clean!!

The husband tries to make astute observations. Like … he is with it or something. He makes shit up.

Him: “It must be getting warmer outside because it’s getting warmer in here.”

(It’s going to be super hot here today)

Me: (glances at thermostat) “No, it’s not. It’s exactly the same temperature in here as when I came downstairs this morning.”

Him: raises his eyebrows at me AS IF I AM THE ONE MAKING SHIT UP. “It is???” (Condescending tone)

Me: “Yes. (Pause for effect) It is. (With emphasis) The A/C is set and working.”

Redrum

I’m off of antidepressants for 2 days now and feeling more critical than usual. Giving running commentary on the television propaganda advertising. He hates that. His annoyance with my astute observations gives me sadistic joy

Done deal

On Saturday I mowed the lawn. And because I live amongst disgusting people, before I mow the lawn I have to walk my property along the street and pick up beverage containers, little airplane booze bottles, disposable vapes, assorted wrappers/chip bags and even, on Saturday an entire McDonald’s bag of garbage including the half filled beverage. (I did pop the top and pour the beverage out onto the grass). I also noticed the McDonald’s bag was heavy with something I chose not to explore. I left my trash bag of litter outside the garage over night and yesterday I discovered that some animal had chewed through the bag, pulled out, and tore through the McDonald’s bag. Now I feel so guilty that my backyard friends found unhealthy fast food and it’s my fault.

I really do miss seeing them every day and knowing what they’re up to. I’m tempted to put the camera back out but I feel like that project is a done deal.

Mostly TISTMF

So. TMI alert.

The backstory:

Back in the winter, I had a few days where I just felt I had to poop….. almost all the time. Even after I pooped. I mentioned it to a friend who got a bit panicky and begged me to go the gastroenterologist. So, I called. I had to wait a few weeks for an appointment despite my wide open schedule and ability to take any appointment they offered. The instant I hung up with the appointment desk- problem solved!

But three weeks came around and I went anyway. Told the doctor about my short bout of weird butt feelings and he said I was due for colonoscopy anyway so I should schedule one on the way out. Sounds fine.

And this where I start to sweat because, if you will recall, my aunt actually died after being punctured during a colonoscopy and bleeding out on the table. I knew they wouldn’t want to let me swallow the camera since the last time I went (3 years ago) they did remove a spot or two and would want to be able to remove anything looking pre-suspicious. Despite my racing heart and desire to run screaming out of the office I approached the scheduling desk

Then they don’t have an opening for the procedure for a few months. WTH? What if there was an emergency? I made the appointment. I asked a friend if she could be available to drive me. She said YES

Then my friend ended up going out of the country and I had to figure out if I was going to ask someone else or take a taxi or what. Grrrr.

I got the prep kit which was different than the one the doctor told me about, not the one I used last time and not covered by insurance. Grrrrr. Finally I was scheduled for the day after Mother’s Day, which meant fasting on Mother’s Day, which I completely didn’t realize until the week before, but that didn’t matter because…..

The text:

Fuck!! I went in MONTHS ago for that Gastro consult and scheduled the routine colonoscopy for today. I HAD TO WAIT THREE MONTHS BECAUSE THEY’RE BOOKED OUT FOREVER IN ADVANCE. They called me Fucking THURSDAY and said I’m too fat and had to reschedule to go to the hospital for the procedure.

Seriously? The hospital? During a pandemic, during an upswing in infections, when I am not able to wear a mask during the procedure …… fuck off and die. I’m not going to a hospital. Assholes.

Also, I was the same level of fat when they scheduled my office colonoscopy so WHAT THE FUCK?? They weighed me during that appointment!

Now they’re trying to make nice to me and apologize and I’m like

SHUT THE FUCK UP BITCH YOU’VE WASTED MONTHS OF MY TIME DURING WHICH I COULD HAVE GONE TO ANOTHER PROVIDER.

I’m exactly on the cut off weight for an office procedure. I could have lost pounds while waiting forever for my appointment. Fucking assholes. I AM SO ANNOYED.

What I decided to do:

I’m going to lose 20 pounds and reschedule for an office visit. Maybe. Because that office isn’t together and I don’t trust them to follow covid protocols that would protect me, the one who is required to take her mask off. Or maybe I am going to find a new practice that not only listens better but has better office organization so as not to waste months of my time for no results. I can’t decide. Either way I am going to start with shedding some pounds

TISMF

Welcome to another episode of "Texts I Sent My Friends!"

 

So. Since my meat suit decided that without the thrill of contagious diseases this past 2+ years it would generate every possible non contagious panic inducing painful life altering situation possible…..

Yesterday I noticed the pain of what I thought was a canker sore in my mouth. Upon further investigation I pulled back my upper lip to see something which despite feeling like a round lump looked much like a swollen blackhead. I gave it a little push and out came something I can only describe as clear gelatinous sticky goo. I’m seeing my dentist at 5:30.

FML.

Change. Dentist got a cancellation. 1:30 is go time.

I'm not going until 1:30

The dentist hasn't seen it yet.  (That friend loves me) 

OK I just wanted to tell you that the shortest way to stress me out is by telling me that I’m too stressed out. He said I don’t know what it is so I’m going to send you to the oral surgeon but I think it looks like it might be something viral that was probably brought on by you being in so much stress that your immune system isn’t working optimally.  Guess who cried in the dentist office today. All I heard was "You can't handle stress and you did this to yourself."

The oral surgeon didn’t know what it was either but he said it’s definitely infected and he’s ordering me antibiotics. Oh my god. He squeezed it so hard I was writhing in the chair,  and this time yellowish gel came out. (BARF) He doesn’t know what it is but thinks it’s …remotely… possible that it is an infected salivary gland. Wants me to take antibiotics and come back in a week. He said something must be infected due to the color of the pus. If the antibiotics don’t clear this up he will get to the bottom of it. Yay.

I need to know what’s going on because right now I'm tingly numb from inside my nostril across my right top lip.

Also, he asked me if I had ever done injectables because he has "seen this kind of thing after injectables".  I gave him the look and said “Do these lip wrinkles look like they’ve been filled?” It broke the tension. He said he had to ask. I gave him the nod.

He said “I want to know the etymology of this thing in your mouth “.

O
M
G

I think I orgasmed upon hearing that.

Just wanted to let you know that I actually did take the first dose of antibiotic tonight.

bubkas

On the one hand I do not make a big deal over any holiday.

On the other hand I feel completely unappreciated and taken for granted. 

I thought that I had trained my kids that the one and only thing necessary on Mother's day was a nice hand written letter of appreciation. I thought I was making their lives simpler by asking for something that only required an ounce of effort. A letter. Not a big shiny fancy gift. They don't have to wonder what I would like, or whip out their wallets, or buy ridiculous $5 cards at the drug store. They don't have to go to a store or even search the web. They could literally write their notes on toilet paper and as long as the words were there I'd be so happy.

 

I got no letters. Josh and Marion texted me. I responded with Call me later. Love you. A text. They fucking texted me.

Evan swung by for a couple of hours.

 

sigh.

 

I can't cope with the thanklessness of this job in the midst of feeling under appreciated for everything else.

I ask for crumbs, I get bubkas.

Probably not

Setting: it’s 10:30 in the morning  The husband woke up surprisingly early this morning. I asked him how much he weighed today. (Congestive Heart failure daily interrogation part one) we had a brief discussion where he, for the fifth time, couldn’t understand how he had gained a few pounds (two nights of takeout in a row)  When I explain it to him he recognizes that I’ve told him this before.  Every time it’s the same. He knows he is forgetting things.  

 

He puts on a tv marathon of ER. Im not paying attention but am vaguely aware that someone on the show is having their eye opening spirit purpose of life discovery moment. Husband turns towards me, I look up, he looks solemn.

 

Husband: I’m kind of a waste of life, aren’t I?

 

Me: uh uh uh . (Thinking:holy fuck! What is the right thing to say??)

 

Husband: turns back towards the television.

 

Me: . Are you feeling down?

 

Husband: SHRUG. Maybe.

 

Me: Are you taking responsibility for your poor health?

 

Husband: probably not.

 

Me: .......... (insert sad emoji followed by angry emoji)