"Oh... guys? Don't stay in here all day. I had to take the batteries out of the carbon monoxide detector; it was beeping all night."
Why am I even bothering to write, I don�t know. It�s all piss and moan, piss and moan, waa waa waa, I�m so depressed, I want to kill myself.
I swear to frickin� gawd, I will never, ever bitch about having to drive people around ever, ever again. I�m sitting here wondering, �How will I get to the credit unions tomorrow to make deposits? How will I get to the pediatricians office to pick up Mickey�s health form so he can start school? How will I get groceries?�. Simple shit. And it�s eating a fucking hole right through my stomach.
We were supposed to go to the �Pub Grainery� with Robert & Company yesterday to watch the Daytona. Only, that wasn�t quite gonna work. Why?
1) No money
2) No transportation
3) No babysitter
Now, if I told you that I couldn�t do something on account of those three issues, you might understand, right? Robert, being reasonable, was cool with it. Rhonda, calls back and says: �Take a cab!�. Well, that really does not solve anything, with cab fare just into the city one way is $15. Which goes against reason #1. Plus, what about a babysitter?
Hub was thinking he was going to go and leave me with the kids, but, um, no. Not when Daisy�s here! Sorry! Don�t make a big deal about her coming here every time it�s your time and then stick her with me while you go drinking. Fuck that.
Plus? The no money thing. �Sure kids, we�ll be eating grilled cheese sandwiches for a few *more* days, we can�t afford real food cuz Daddy spent everything we had at the Grainery�. Yeah. Sweet.
I wrote on myspace Saturday that he found a sweet deal on a truck. A 2006 Fort F350 Crew Cab (with four independently working doors! Shite!) for $32,000. He told me Saturday that it was $31,000, but it�s actually $32K. Why he had to omit the extra K, I don�t know, because little details like that are not important, I guess.
Anyway, he swung by later with it while he test drove it. My only problem with it is that it�s white. And brand new. I guarantee, give him three months with it and it will be some shade of brown and the inside will be sticky and look like Dunkins� dumpster. I�m just sayin�.
It was sweet, though. The dealership wanted some $$$ down to take it off the lot, and Jay offered to lend us the cash (he is way too excited about this truck, too) but not knowing if our loan will go through or not, we didn�t want to chance losing the money.
So, we�ll know tomorrow if the loan is approved and if the truck is still there, then it�s still there. If the loan isn�t approved, then I�m just going to kill myself.
I can�t fucking keep living like this. I have nothing to look forward to right now. I feel like just when I think life sucks as much as it can, it just gets worse. And if I pin any kind of hope in any remote kind of way that I might someday get some relief from the stress of the last few months, then my hopes are dashed, waved in my face and stomped on to smithereens.
With that said, now I�m *crossing my fingers* to write this:
Hub�s 1999 IRS issue has been fully resolved. It was a month or so ago, with the IRS saying he owed $146 and that was it. I don�t know what changed, but we got a letter from the IRS and a call from the accountant the same day we got the letter, saying that in actuality, they owe him $1661.00 for 1999 and they�ll be sending it out today. (Which, it�s President�s Day, and aren�t they off today?).
Maybe we�ll actually get it. Heck, maybe we�ll actually get our 2004 refund, too. Supposedly, they�ll be sending that out around March 1st, and that�s supposed to be $3600. Which, that would help. I could pay bills, and get the kids things that they desperately need. Beavis only has so many clothes right now, cuz the asshole won�t fucking stop growing, and Minnie has several pairs of pants with holey knees that she just will not wear. Mickey�s got a few pairs of highwaters, too.
I hate to get excited about the prospect of actually having some money. I feel like any form of positive thinking is going to ruin everything.
Anyway. Enough of that shit.
Regarding Dick. He really did say that he couldn�t see the kids cuz his teeth were fucked up. I swear. One of the many stupid reasons he has to not see the kids. My own take on the number one reason why he can�t see his kids? He is a loser retard useless piece of shit who should be dead. Or something like that.
I forgot to mention during the call that he was all, �Well, I�ll try to see them before March 9 [court date], because I�ll be going away for a while�. Meaning jail. And trying to guilt me.
For what? For all last summer, when he lived for free at the shelter, but was making $20 an hour, not paying shit for child support, and telling me things like, �I have $800 saved up right now�. What happened to that $800, I don�t know, but certainly not one cent went to his kids.
I should have said something then, but I didn�t. So, my bad. But still.
He actually thought that the Division of Child Support actually paid me, and then they would go after him. Like, uh, welfare? No, if they did that for every deadbeat dad it would cost more than the Iraq war. I set him straight and said they just collect and disburse payments, that�s it.
I hear from him a lot less now that he knows we are in financial trouble. I guess he�s the only one who�s entitled to be poor. It�s okay not to support his kids and let another man do it. Of course, on the flip side, when it was just me, him and Beavis, he certainly had a problem with having to help support Beavis.
He is so much like my loser brother it�s not even funny. Oh well, they�ll be together soon. Maybe they can room together.
I hate my life.
Ciao.