"You have sunk below the deepest layer of prehistoric frog shit at the bottom of a New Jersey scum swamp."
Jackie�s Dandy Fucking Wednesday, Part 2.
Yeah, could it have gotten any worse? Probably, but it sucked enough as it was.
When last we left our heroin (totally leaving out that �e� on purpose), she was aggravated by stupid children and a moronic husband, but luckily she still had power in her house. She was also very much looking forward to an evening out, away from the homestead for a change.
A brief digression: I�m so glad so many of you are evil just like me in the kid hating department. This morning, as I ignored Jaegan and Evil Little Eric fight each other with sticks, I also prayed for bad things. However, today, the gods were not heeding my prayers. It�s okay, I�m going to be needing them to help me out in the next few years so I guess I should curb my requests for children�s injuries.
Captain Asshat had left around noon to do some work for the Town of Litchfield. What that work was exactly, I don�t know, but it got him the fuck out of my hair, so I don�t care.
So. Around 4:30, I sat Minnie, Mickey, Colin and Makayla down for a lovely snack of chocolate munchkins, brought over courtesy of their Memere. I love when she brings those, cuz I hate them and the kids love them. (Jackie Fun Fact: I love chocolate, in all forms, with the glaring exceptions of chocolate donuts and chocolate ice cream. Blech. Oh, and Oreo�s).
Then, the power went out. Fuck! It was dark by then. That�s the only thing that pissed me off, the darkness. That, and our oven is electric.
Right after, Colin and Makayla�s dad showed up (an hour early!) to get them. The power went back on. We all went, �YAY!�.
It stayed on for roughly two minutes, and then it went back out.
Shortly after Willy left with the kids, Hub called on the chirp-chirp. (Our phones are all cordless, and did not work due to the power outage. Which doesn�t bother me as I hate the phone).
�*mumble mumble mumble* just got here to *mumble mumble mumble* so I should be another half hour or so�. Note: Hub�s half hour=regular people�s hour and a half.
I�d told him I wanted to leave by six. Which, in reality, is 6:20 or so, but Hub does not live in reality, so I have to alter times just to get him here roughly on time.
I said, �So, you�re not going to be here in time for me to leave? Thanks a fucking lot!�
His response? A big, self fucking righteous, �I AM *WORKING*!!!�.
�And I�m just a piece of shit who should just stay here at the house and keep an eye on all the kids and shut the fuck up?!? I ask for one hour a week and I can�t even get that?�. That�s when my kids learned the word �cocksucker�.
It�d be one thing if he spent most of his time �working�. Okay, but I know, he spends more time chit chatting like an old lady with all of his buddies out there than he does just working. Breakfast, coffee, circle jerks, etc etc.
No matter how much he claims to be working, eventually his rambling pie-hole will start to talk about the chit chats at the town barn, or the breakfasts, or whatever. So, if he�d shut the fuck up, maybe he could, I don�t know. Come home on time for a change.
I was so pissed, and really feeling shitty. After all I do, after all my spending more time with his fucking kids than he does, and I can�t get one fucking night. At least on time, anyway.
And there�s no power with which I could prepare my kids some dinner.
Oh, and? It�s noteworthy that I leave most of the picking up of Daisy up to him, because I�m sick and tired of it. WTF. Your visitation, try making it for once. Cocksucker.
So, by now it was 4:55. There was a meeting at 5:15. I decide on the spur of the moment, I�m going to go to the 5:15 and then take the kids to McD�s for dinner. So, I razzled them all up and away we went.
Well. It was dark and rainy. The parking lot at Weight Watchers was packed, way more packed than it is at the 7:00 meeting. It usually Is, there�s offices and shit in the same building. However, usually you can find a space.
Then we see, at the back of the lot, that there are about six or seven open spots. Heading back that way, we see why: they�re all coned off due to a big tree laying there.
Around and around this one way mess of a parking lot, and I decided to head out to the front lot, which is further away but will have spots. As I headed out, going the RIGHT way, some stupid bitch is heading in the out way. So, I backed up to get out of her way. Now, remember, my friends, I drive a minivan. It�s higher than most cars. So, I totally did not see the Nissan behind me that was backing out.
Yeah. SLAM. We hit. Fucking great. Stupid going in the out way bitch will have to wait, cuz I just stopped to assess the damage.
Nothing to the van, of course. Her car? Eh, not so bad, but her bumper was scratched. She wasn�t terribly worried about it, but I know how people are. The husband might decide it IS something to worry about, or she might just decide to be a bitch. So, I gave her my name and insurance info. Thank god I covered that payment before the insurance got cancelled.
Yadda yadda yadda, I weighed in. Down 2.2. Not bad, but I�m telling you, it was more. However, the time of month and my mood tells me, I could have some bloating going on. Still, bloating and a 2.2 lb weight loss? Thank you sir may I have another!
Then we went to McD�s. Hub calls while we were on the way.
Me: Yeah?
Him: Have Beavis watch the kids for a few minutes. I�ll be home in fifteen minutes.
Me: We�re not even home. There�s no power. Don�t worry about it.
Him: Whatever.
Cocksucker.
Inside McD�s, he calls again.
Him: Did the Douchebag call you?
Me: Well, We�re not home, and the phone�s not working anyway, and she hasn�t called my cell.
Him: I tried to call her but there�s no answer.
Me: Don�t know what to tell you. Gotta go.
Then, a few minutes later, Helen (�The Douchebag�) calls my cell.
Helen: Have you talked to Hub?
Me: Just a second ago. He said he tried to call your house but there was no answer.
Helen: Oh. You guys have power?
Me: No. I�m not even home cuz of it.
Helen: He called my parents house? And said he�s not picking up Daisy?
Me: I don�t know what his plan is, he didn�t tell me. Why Don�t I give you his cell number? That way you can just call him and find out what�s going on.
Helen: Oh, okay.
Back story so that you can see why I pulled what to Hub is a major bitch move. Hub�s most closely guarded secret from Helen is his cell phone number. He does not want her to have it and has kept it hidden from her for the two or so years he�s had it. Helen has asked me for it, and I�ve refused saying he doesn�t want her to have it.
He thinks she�s going to fill it up with angry voice mails, like she did five years ago during their divorce. She hasn�t left any angry messages at our house and she�s had the number for four years. But, he flatters himself thinking that she�s still in love with him.
Whatever, fuck him.
Anyway, so then we headed home. Still no power. Fuck!
I went around the house lighting candles (thank God I�m such a candle freak), and once I had the house fairly adequately lit, the fucking lights went back on. We did not �YAY!�, nor did we blow any candles out.
Shortly thereafter, around 7:00, Hub graces us with his presence. I said neither �hi� nor �boo� to him.
He says, �I�m going to take a shower, come upstairs if you need anything�. Which is code for, �I got pot�.
Fuck you. What do you want, a fucking blow job cuz you have pot? You might have to be paying someone else for your blowjobs, and don�t think the promise of a high is going to make me follow you upstairs, either. I have a good book which comes in handy for IGNORING you.
In the next hour, he asked me to go upstairs twice. Both times, I said, �I�ll be up there in a second�. Which is Jackiespeak for, �I�m not coming up right now�.
Eventually, I went up. He wanted to give me his hours to bill out Litchfield. I said, write it down, please. He said, �What should I write?� I was like, I don�t even know what the fuck you did today so how would I know?
The business, btw, has me completely overwhelmed and I so want OUT. It was great being self-employed but not worth the aggravation. I have no idea what I�m doing. NO clue. Taxes? I have to file for the year? For one, I can�t even cover what we owe for October to December. I know not thing one about filing for a business, nor can we afford an accountant. I want out so bad that just thinking about it is making me cry.
Meanwhile, he wants to make a sign for his truck to bring in more business. I don�t want this. I can�t handle another year of this. I hate it I hate it I hate it. Anyone? Help?
Anyway, then I get: �I do apologize�. Oh, right, you want that blowjob now? How about this: *NAILS ON A CHALKBOARD*.
I said, �Whatever�. Not getting into it. If I stick up for myself, it�ll just be fight and one of his fucking diatribes. I�m all set.
Then, he says, �Well, I do know where Beavis gets it from�. Referring to Beavis�s freak out of the other night.
I said, �Fuck you�. FUCK YOU.
I�m done, people. Done. Figuratively speaking. I�m formulating my two year plan.
I�m staring to think about going back to school next September. In two years, I can get some kind of degree to add to the pathetic piece of shit that I already have, and get myself a better earning potential. I�m going to spend a lot of time looking into local programs for several things: culinary arts, paralegal and nursing.
I�m thinking, I�m a really good cook. Not only that, but I like to cook. I�m 90% self taught, so imagine how damn good I could be if I were trained in it. Plus? Chef�s don�t have to deal with people much. But, I know the hours will suck if I work at a restaurant. But, still, it�s something I�m thinking about.
Paralegal because I dig legal shit, but not enough to be an actual lawyer. Plus? Good money.
But, if I can get an RN in two years (and I�m sure I can, since I�ve got most of the bullshit pre-reqs all out of the way with the degree that I have), I�m going with that. I know, nurses have to deal with people, but around here, a hospital nurse can make $50 and hour. I�ll deal with people for that kind of money. Plus, close proximity to Boston means I could work down there and make even better money. I know a woman who specializes in inserting IV�s in odd places at Children�s, and she makes ridiculous money and works like three days a week. All for taking one special course in sticking IV�s into people�s heads.
Oh also? Always a high demand for people In the medical field. Plus. My mom was a nurse, her mom was a nurse, and that goes back to my great-great grandmother. I would have been #5 in line keeping up that family tradition. It�s never too late.
Anyway, so that�s the beginning of my two year plan. I think I have more than enough time to cover getting into a program and nailing down some financial aid or student loans so that I can start full time in September.
Yeah, so, that�s all I�ve got right now. I have to go pick up some spring water and laundry soap, maybe a big fat bag of sanity while I�m out, too. That medical nightmare son of mine, Beavis is going to se the orthopedist about his stupid OCD elbow today, and then tomorrow he�s going to the ball sack doctor. You have no idea how fucking sick I am of dealing with that kid�s health shit.
Oh, and he�s �worried� about Hub and I. �Mom, I worry about it when you talk about leaving him�. I said, �please don�t worry about it, that�s for me to do�.
Next thing you know, he�s gonna need fucking counseling again. Never mind that I know this fucking elbow thing is going to lead into either weekly fucking physical therapy or another surgery, or most likely both. Fucking hooray.
I�m telling you, if I had health insurance and someone to take care of my kids, I�d check in for a nice, relaxing four day stay at the local looney bin for some refreshing therapy and lovely medication. Unfortunately, I don�t have the fucking luxury of that option.
Okay, yeah, I�m really out now.
Adios.