Alright, I didn't get to post about the super adorable Sexy and his pleading to spend time with me Monday night and how even though I'd been up for 19 hours I got out of bed and grabbed some work clothes and boogied on down to his place for some smooches and cuddles.
We were both draaagggggeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnn ass in the morning, but with the witty banter and random sex jokes anyway. I have insecurities and he blows right past them... then I tell him about some other ones and he negates those too... so I'm on a bit of a high from my Sexy time (though I've had NO sleep in the last week that wasn't cut short or alcohol induced) as I bust through traffic and get to work EARLY. =)
Then the day begins.
Fucked after mother fucken fucked is how yesterday went.
Even when I went for a pressure release on Laurie's Shank Tuesday I ended up ON THE SHANKED list.
That is a bad fucking day.
Then I try to explain that "fuck, I want a little normalcy and try to get my fix on your blogroll but everyone has talked about DEATH OF A LOVED ONE in the last 2 weeks and FUCK if I don't want to think about my half packed room displaying the only thing on the shelf as my MOM IN A JAR" and she starts with "I got the shanks done last night for you ungrateful readers and DAYM give a bitch a minute" so I came back with "if you had them done, why were they not here for your faithful followers - if I were as loved as you are, I'd have to post ALL THE TIME and saving would be OUT OF THE QUESTION just because I know how it is to be ADDICTED, but since I am NOT loved like you I guess I'll just WORK instead of blog" and she smacked me back with some "I have to work too, you are LUCKY you got this post at lunch!"
Whatever, so my day didn't go well.
I decided to get excited about my moving and visit the new place. This didn't work AT ALL. It was cool until she got home, which is EXACTLY what I am living in now... T came back from her trip and with me in the living room proceeded to unpack everything I'd cleaned and put in the garage. I'm not exactly sure what her malfunction is, but to NOT pack and clean because SHE was unpacking all up in the space I needed, to pass out on the couch, to wake up and try to crawl into bed but get berrated with "um, why is my shit not left in the pile of toothpaste scum I call a bathroom sink?" and to get FUCKING OFFENDED to the point I shut my door on the dogs tail to get away from her indignations at my "I was cleaning the bathroom and my stuff and didn't want your stuff to get mixed in so I put it on your desk, why you found it in the closet?? maybe you should talk to your housesitter who didn't clean up after her kids bday party for a WEEK but thought cleaning your room would be nice." OK, so half an hour later I get up, do my night routine, then pack some more shit until my toes got cold, then read a book until I could forget the audacity she has to not see that I cleaned the whole bathroom while she was gone but to wonder why her mess wasn't left for her. This left me with ANOTHER night of getting to sleep after 1am. ONE IN THE MORNING ON THE WEEK I AM MOVING AND TAKING OVER SOMEONES JOB AND FIRING PEOPLE ALL DAY. fuckityfuckfack. yes, fack, its the way mom said it when she was trying to make it fun to me ASS RAPED by life.
Whatever, I sleep through my alarm, whatever, I wake up with 15 minutes to get out of the house and ALL my clothes are in the garage so as not to be sniffed by a cat, whatever, I can't find my slippers so I tramp downstairs in 2" heels, whatever, but to find that the wicker baskets and hampers of mine AND T's that I oil soaped and soaked and scrubbed were ALL OVER the garage WHERE THE CAT LIVES and my laundry has obviously been riffled through and the one hamper I've had in my closet for AT LEAST 4 months now has ONE shirt she gave me in the bottom of it... well,
alright, so I am screaming my head off in the garage, the dogs won't come near me, I look at all the RECLEANING I'm gonna do tonight because this scank fucken whore bitch couldn't come in the house and say "hey, why is all my stuff in bags over here?" to which I could reply "because when I cleaned it for you it was full of spider webs and I ran out of garbage bags to wrap my and your stuff seperate so I thought I'd keep it clean for you until I could finish packing" and she could say "no, I'm cool, I don't need my stuff kept clean, but thanks" and I could say "no problem, but I'll move the stuff because I need to keep the cat dander/dust/AIR off of this stuff before it goes to my new place"...
none of that, instead, me, rage filled, tears spewing across my face as I try apply my makeup in STOPPED TRAFFIC, late to work, angry, twitchy angry, so unbelieveably violated, and trying to hang onto the idea that she only has 2 days to go through all my stuff and see what else I was surely going to steal from her stacks of piled up leftovers from garage sales... and somehow the thought of the new place was no solice as the howl of the new pet echoed in my ears and her "its ok, lets go lay down, do you want a treat?" get trumped by the visual of her walking out of the house as I am in mid sentance of a story SHE ASKED ME TO TELL.
I call my friend Monty. I know he can answer his phone and will have some sage words to drain my heart of hurt. I am late to work, I am crying in the hallway, I get passed by someone getting off the elevator who walked into my office and rang the bell for service FIVE TIMES before I could wipe the tear from my eye and get in the door. 12 minutes late, this bitch is saying "I just need to visit with her" at a place she is trying to GET WORK - WHEN have YOU ever been hired for a job and not have to fill out any paperwork?? - then she isn't on the calendar, and neither are the 2 people testing, and I have a LIST of emails asking for bizzarre things like "I'm 200 miles away, can I have access to turn your phones on in the morning for you?" and "please fill out paperwork for loser #2 to be replaced" when 7 days ago she extended her leave for a month...
alright, I'm moving. I get that. This is just a trial. God would not give me a test I can't pass. This is just a moment in my life. But FUCK if I could get a minute to digest all this shit before more shit gets piled on it would be kinda nice.
oh, and I can't concentrate for SHIT on work.
only an hour before a deadline and all I want to do is go steal a truck and start moving.
Friday I have the day off, my sister is coming, the dog gets a bath and a shave, the truck is reserved, and I get to move into a whole new version of the same shitstorm of women not understanding that if you have to open your home to renters so you can keep living there then BACK THE FUCK OFF AND LET THEM LIVE THERE.
That is all. My heart hurts. My eyes are swollen. My jaw is clenched, lips pursed, giving me a headache... but if I open my mouth I am sure I will cry or scream or hurl explatives until I can't think of anymore.
I don't want to do this. I don't want to be filled with hate. I don't like it. At all.