And Then There is Always Napalm
It's been a hell of a week, folks. A hell of a week. Here's the synopsis if you are short on reading time:
Dave's been sick for a full week with the flu, but not COVID, and it has included a trip to the ER
My 50th birthday fucking sucked
I threw my back out
I had to threaten my teen with throwing out all of her stuff if she didn't clean her damn room yesterday (and I hate pulling out the nukes like that)
I had nightmares about my eldest last night
The foster kiddo is having real listening issues due to Dave being sick
I spent nearly two hours trying to get a bank account to balance before finally giving up (I'll do it later, but damn, it was totally messed up)
And all of the above added up to my first customer of the day at Amazon being the last one I will ever have - because...napalm
So for those of you who think I'm all inspiring, that I'm always in a good mood, and that I don't make major mistakes pretty much all the time, well, read on, because you are about to get an education.
Sick, but NOT with COVID
It was last Monday that Dave started feeling puny, and it quickly devolved into chills, fever, sweating, and a general feeling of being completely miserable. You know the lyrics, "You don't know what you got 'till its gone"?
Well, let me tell you, we quickly got to see. Little Miss, our foster daughter could not understand why her Daddy wouldn't let her bounce on him, yodel, or otherwise play. And until Wednesday at 9:30 pm, I was pretty much unavailable to help with her, the dishes, meals, or anything else because of my 12 hour days with Amazon. (It's a 10 hour day, but with short breaks in between, basically rendering me useless)
Having a headache for a week really got to him. He went to the ER on Monday, and was finally prescribed something to handle the pain.
Not Practicing Safe Digging
On Saturday, I dug out part of the pond and didn't use proper digging technique, so I wrenched my back something awful. This pain, combined with Dave's illness and a needy toddler, led to...
It Was Supposed to Be Epic
I mean, seriously, a half century, that's pretty damn epic, don't you think? Well, it started with tears (not mine) because my teen could not find the baby bottle necessary for feeding the baby raccoon we are caring for and the little one was desperately hungry. It went downhill from there. It ended with a whimper, really, the tons of well wishes I got were very nice, I just wish it had been the happy birthday I had hoped for. About the only nice thing past the well wishes, was the fact that I called in a sick day for Amazon because my back was contorted in pain. So I didn't have to work on my birthday, hooray!
I had to call in sick for the second day in a row to my job at Amazon when my husband ended up needing to go to the ER. I spent it running errands, cleaning, and sleeping thanks to the flexeril that kept the pain somewhat in check but made me wonky as hell.
And Then There Was Today...
Waking up from a nightmare about my eldest didn't help. The news that she had moved back to California after her marriage collapsed (big surprise there) and is living with her dad which was a surprise considering how many times she referred to him as a "loser" and a "leech" - but not when you consider that Danielle is capable of saying things like "Mom, you have always been the one who was there for me" while saying quite the opposite and worse to whatever friends she currently has (they come and go pretty quick). In any case, despite believing she is absolutely in the right place and that the two of them couldn't deserve each other more, it still gave me conflict dreams.
Later, as I struggled to reconcile my bank account (ironically it was the way that Amazon bills that completely screwed me up), it took nearly two solid hours before I gave up and went upstairs to log on and start my day at Amazon.
The first customer of the day was a pissed off, self-entitled bitch from hell. And on any other day, I would have finessed her like I had done a dozen times before. This time, however, I just could not force myself to give one single damn. She was a complete bitch and I had had enough of the way she was talking to me. I thanked her at one point for "reminding me of my place in life" and she just kept going. At which point, heaven help me, out came the napalm. I ended the chat by typing, "You are a self-entitled bitch and I hope you take my advice and go fuck yourself."
Then I sent a short, direct message to my supervisor. "I quit."
I couldn't do it. I just...couldn't.
And now here I am. Here WE are, because damned if this doesn't affect everyone I love and who loves me. They held me while I sobbed and said incredibly kind and supportive things. How did I get so lucky?
And, true to me, I will now spend the next hours and days doing the following:
Figuring out what to do next
Cleaning the house like a demon possessed
Working on the yard
Creating a meal list and taking over cooking while I figure my shit out
I am not perfect. And at times, I am the antithesis of inspiration. I am, simply put, me. And I, for one, am resigned to being just that. Imperfect, irrational, and at times, incredibly good at self-sabotage.