"An accident? An accident? Do you realize it's snowing in my room goddammit! "
Guest entries are pretty fun, ey? One of these days, maybe even today, I�m going to zip through my buddy list and authorize some of you fine folks to write me a guest entry. If you see my name at the top of your �add an entry� page, feel free to write one for me, or not. It�s up to you.
Anyway, life is�okay. We�re hanging in there. I am, anyway. I�ve been busy having mild anxiety about the up-coming winter and the lack of money. I�m hoping all this severe weather that�s been around this year equals a ton of snow this winter. Well. Maybe not a ton, but enough to make it through the winter with food in our bellies and the ability to pay a bill or two or maybe even the rent.
Just ignore me. I do this every year at this time. Somehow or another, we manage to live through it. However, that neurotic freak in me refuses to take it for granted that we�ll be okay this winter. That would just be inviting trouble as far as that freak is concerned.
Speaking of which. My inner freak has been periodically waiting for that �big catastrophe� to happen in my life again. I mean one of those humungous life altering and never for the better catastrophes that always involve the loss of life. I figure, my last real one was in 1977 when my mom got sick and it altered my life and many others forever after that (Seriously. I truly believe that had that not happened, Ned, for one, would be a totally different person. Me too), so I�m due, right?
I try to put these thoughts out of my head, because they�re not constructive and are basically a waste of time. But they fucking pop back up. I�ll watch the news (so not good for the anxiety, I know) and see some horrible tragedy and imagine myself In that situation. It doesn�t help? That I read all those mystery/thriller/crime books about serial killers and shit, and from there I have all kinds of atrocities to imagine. My kids or myself being tortured and killed, etc. And of course, I worry constantly about the cancer that is in my body right now undetected. Which, I don�t have cancer. I don�t think. But still, I worry about his shit. And it�s just a fucking waste of time, dammit!
Oy. Have I mentioned that we are going out to New York again for Thanksgiving? My friend Linda invited us out, assuming that we wouldn�t be able to go but wanted to extend the invite anyway, and we decided to make an �ass� out of �u and me� for assuming. I�m excited. I figure, for the most part, we are really only going to have to pay for the drive there and back and to have a little spending money. And �party supplies�, of course. We have a place to stay and meals will be covered pretty much. I already have big plans to help out with a lot of cooking, which goes a long way further than money as far as Linda is concerned. I�m really excited. The kids are and especially Hub, who can�t wait to get away. Since the kids don�t have school the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, we�re leaving that day and coming back on Sunday.
I wanted to write a whole entry about Nina this weekend (I�m ready to join the dorks club again and update on the weekends), but all of my opportunities were lost. Damn kids. I�ll do a little condensed version of what I wanted to do.
She�s just such a piece of work. The week before last, she applied for Medicaid, as she�s pregnant and has no health insurance. So, I took her down to the welfare office (remember, I was so relieved I didn�t have to be there for me?) and of course, she had none of the paperwork they needed, except for her daughter�s birth certificate. She had to do all this running around to get the kid�s social security number, including going to the IRS to prove she hadn�t filed for taxes with Juli�s name last year.
My lord. So anyway. She asked me to take her down to welfare so she could turn all her shit in. Okie doke. I�ve learned, instead of agreeing on a time and being ready, to just have her call me or come over when she�s ready. Otherwise, I�ll be waiting forever for her to get her ass in gear. Motivation is not her strong point. Nor is organization or punctuality. This is Nina. I know this, I accept it about her, but still, I am the type of person to just get the fuck up and go, and the dawdling around can irritate me a tad.
So. She calls, she�s ready to go. So, I go over to get her. Yeah, sometimes I actually drive the van next door, which is lazy as hell, but it�s easier to pack the kids up (especially her�s, who have inherited her slothiness, which I know isn�t a word, so I made it up) and get them in when it�s at her house. If they walk over, they are likely to get distracted by shiny objects and take forever.
Now, she�s got a list of shit she needs. She decides to check it as we�re on our way out. Suddenly, she can�t find her proof of pregnancy (because, even though she�s seven months along, and quite obviously, it must be written on paper for them top believe it). So. She has to call the fucking doctor�s to get one. She gets them to do one up for her right away, which they didn�t want to do, but she whined about limited transportation and shit, so they got one ready for her. Another stop on the trip.
Okay. So she grabs all of her shit that she needs, except for the list from her caseworker, because she doesn�t need that, right? Except! They have a drop box that you can just drop your shit off to your worker and not have to wait in line behind all the people with the sad stories. So, we�re driving there, and I gave her an envelope, because she doesn�t have any, of course, but she doesn�t know her caseworker�s name because it�s on the list that she thought she didn�t need. So she had to wait in line anyway.
I don�t know how she does it. I�m serious. It�s kind of funny if you think about it. I mean, she fucked up drunky class for being late and now has to wait for them to call her to enroll again. She really does need her license, especially this winter because I am not so likely to just hop in the van and cart her ass around when it�s cold and there�s snow on the ground. I have hot cocoa to drink then, ya know? Important things to do!
The thing about Nina is, despite being a fuck up, she accepts all her faults and still has really good self-esteem. It amazes me, but she really takes herself for what she is and if you don�t like it? Not her problem. I like that about her. I also accept her for the way she is, she�s been this way since I�ve known her, and it�s been over ten years since I met her.
The one thing, though, that really annoys me at times is the babysitting requests. For little things, like grocery shopping. She doesn�t want to bring her kids with her because they don�t know how to act. Well, how are they supposed to learn how to act in public? By taking them! I told her that and she said �Well face it, I just don�t want to take them�. She asked if I could watch the boys Saturday night so they could go shopping, she didn�t see the point in five of them going shopping. Why not? I�ve been in packs of five for shopping; me, Minnie, Mickey, Colin and Makayla, basically because I needed FOOD and wasn�t going to wait for a sitter to get it. But. That�s me.
Well, Saturday night is not a good time to ask me to babysit. Nor is Friday afternoon, for that matter, because by the end of the week I am sick and tired of watching other people�s kids and want to relax. I have no problem flat out refusing because I just don�t feel like it. Especially when the kids are high maintenance, an active 18 month old and Josh, the tattling, lying, little fucker machine.
OMG--her daughter, Julianna. Holy shit! That kid gets into EVERYTHING. It doesn�t help that Nina doesn�t watch her much and the kid is allowed all over the house as much as she wants. She crawls on top of the kitchen table, she�ll pull a chair up to the counter and climb up. She goes upstairs and downstairs at will. She throws all kinds of shit in the trash or toilet at any given time. Like her shoes. Or their checks. Once, Nina foolishly fell asleep while Juli was about and Juli got hold of her cigarettes and took the whole pack, one by one, and put them in her tea. There is no such thing as �baby-proofing� in her house. When she comes here, she knows that you can�t just go into anything you want here. Oh, and I *watch* the girl, trust me. But really, I won�t be surprised if she gets into something that�ll require a trip to the hospital or at least a call to poison control. She is really rebellious and it�s so obvious. She will go right and do what she knows she�s not supposed to at home and then look at her parents like, �ha�. No discipline. But hey, that�s their kid. I have no problem putting her in her place when she�s here, and it shows because she doesn�t pull her shit here. Not nearly as much, anyway.
Speaking of other people�s kids, I�ve been getting requests from people to baby-sit their kids again. After I got rid of most of the mess that kept me prisoner and drove me insane last winter and spring (ie; Bailey the �I want� kid and Bobby and Cindy). It�s tempting, because I need the money, but I know what kind of a mess I had before and am not interested in going back down that road again. Robert and Rhonda�s daughter is due next month and they asked if I�d watch the baby when she goes back to work, but I can�t. Especially not a baby. Fuck that shit. I�m all set. Besides, I�m a bad person. What if I don�t like the kid? (I�m kidding).
Alrighty, I have a few things to do before Colin and Makayla show up at 12:30. Ciao!!!