It's ugly, folks. I apologize in advance.
I�m not right in the head these days. I tried to tell my husband last night, and all he said was, �Yeah, me too, this cold is all in my head�. I told him that�s not what I meant. Yes, my head hurts from this cold. But that�s not what I meant. He changed the subject right then and there.
Which, you know, YAY for support. Yeah, Hub, don�t worry about me and my stupid little problems. Just forget the fact that if it weren�t for me not having health insurance or someone dependable to take care of my kids, I�d have checked my ass into the mental ward by now. Forget the fact that ten minutes on dland makes me feel better than half an hour of talking to him. Forget the fact that I�ve probably been clinically depressed for at least six months now.
Forget the fact that WE HAVE NO MONEY, no money for groceries, no money for my car payment that�s due tomorrow, no money for the fucking ridiculous as all hell car insurance ($350/month. More than $100 more than my car payment. In some areas, that�s rent. Oh? And? Suddenly, Butthead doesn�t have to kick in that whopping $100 a month for Insurance anymore. Why? I don�t know. Ever since the bullshit about �Jackie�s money�, I stay the fuck out of that. Rather, I�m considering getting my own insurance without them. Fuck them.), no money for bills, rent, the kid�s health insurance, NO FUCKING MONEY.
But really, there�s no problems to worry about.
Sorry if I feel like everyone in this house (okay, exclude my kids, just Hub and his fucking asshat retard kid) thinks that I am nothing but a joke and a bitch and have no respect for me at all.
Sorry for getting all stressed out on Monday when my kid had surgery. I�m just so silly like that. Gee, I should just smoke some pot and calm down. Yeah, that�s the ticket. That always makes everything better. Except, NO MONEY! Pot is the last thing we should be buying. And lately, I swear, It puts me into a panic anyway.
As long as I�m not burdening him with my silly little problems, all Is well. As long as I�m not asking him to do something around here (clarification: any project not initiated by him. My yard, before the snow fell, never got cleaned. But, we have a half built piece of shit shed addition in the yard! I�m so happy for that! It adds to the dump-like nature of the yard. All we need is a dead vehicle on cinderblocks and we are good to go), all Is well.
And lord forbid we expect Butthead to follow any rules around here. He should just be able to live here and do whatever he wants. Like, tear up the front yard with the snowmobile (what good is a trashy looking back yard if you can�t have the front yard to match?). We can�t say no to him. No. We�d shatter his poor fragile little ego. The next time the shit blows up in Hub�s face with that kid? I rub It in. I�m done being fucking nice. (Oh, the problem with the English class? Hub�s looking into seeing If he�s LD and getting him into special needs. Hello! Not the problem. Put him in the class with the kids who aren�t motivated and the ones who don�t quite make it for SPED and he�ll be all set. The LD thing is going to cause issues with the boy. But whatever).
I wish I hadn�t been raised to be nice. To be a pleaser. I fucking hate it. It�s the bane of my existence. I hope it�s not too late for my own daughter, but I think it is. People take advantage of it way too much. I�m at the point where I don�t want to do anything for anyone else and just someone asking me for something stresses me right out, whether I say yes or no.
I�ve barely spoken to Nina in the last week. I think she kind of caught on that she was asking too much of me. I�m not mad at her, I just don�t feel like socializing. At all. I just want to stay in my house and waste hours reading, fucking around on the computer, watching movies and sleeping. It was a big trip out today to go run a few errands. The depression, the time of year, the weather, it�s all taking a major toll on me.
Yeah, the time of year. I am so fucking sick of Christmas. Fuck Christmas. Fuck the Holidays. Who fucking cares if you say �Merry Christmas� or �Happy Holidays� or �Happy Merry ChrisHanuKwanukah�. Shut the fuck up.
I loved Christmas when Beavis was little. Having him kind of re-opened the magic of the holiday for me. But, he was one kid. Even with three, it was okay. But six? That I do all the shopping for? Yeah, kind of getting old.
Still no list from Butthead, btw. Which means, I�m not shopping for him. Fuck him. Here�s $100, Hub, buy him some shit. Have fucking fun. I hope he bitches about everything you buy him. That�s what he does about the shit I get him every year.
Yeah, the kid pissed me off again. He acts like he pays the bills around here. He knows everything. I�ll bet you didn�t know that, did you? Yes, in my house there is a 16 year old boy who knows everything. He should start a fucking website or a Zoltar machine. Maybe he can wish on the machine that he�s big and then he can move to NYC and get an apartment with a trampoline in it.
Oh, I was going off about Christmas, right? Yeah, I fucking hate it. I hate shopping. I hate that Hub thinks he needs to spend all kinds of money on me that would be better spent on the bills that we can�t pay right now. I hate that it�s in 11 days and I haven�t bought thing one. I hate sending Christmas cards.
I hate that there is no one that I can depend on for any kind of support. Maybe if I didn�t shun everyone I know? No, that�s not it. I can�t be like Nina and ask people to help me every time I turn around. But, it would be nice if I had a mom who could take care of my kids willingly and happily when I need it (it�ll be 24 years on the 23rd that she died. 24 years and still, I feel it). I have nothing like that. My dad, as I�ve said before, visits once in a while but never takes the kids. Hub�s mom? Um...no. I�d rather put them in the Impound lot at the police station than leave my kids with her. Gawsh, they�d be traumatized. Besides, she thinks I hate her because we don�t go visit her every weekend and I never call her. Like it�s special just for her. No, hon, I avoid just about everybody in my life. I just avoid you more because I fear that talking to you for more than one minute will be the event that will catapult me into committing suicide.
I hate the phone. That is the most god-awful invention on the face of the planet, ever. I hate talking on the phone, I hate calling people on the phone, I hate the noise the fucking phone makes when it rings. Yesterday was Hub�s birthday and the fucking phone would not stop ringing. Between his asshole family and the kids� friends, I really wanted to break it yesterday. I hate that the second that I�m on it, my kids crawl right up my ass and need this and that and show no regard for the fact that I�M ON THE FUCKING PHONE.
I hate my cell phone. OMG do I hate that thing. I leave it in the car now when I run errands. Today, I left it at home. It�s already proven itself useless in the case of an emergency, after the whole running out of gas In Podunk bullshit. Somehow or another, I�ll be In the credit union or the store, the doctor�s office, wherever, and that thing will ring. It�s always either Hub or Nina. Hub has nothing to say, just �Hi!� and Nina will know that I�m out and will make a request for cigarettes or something.
Which, I don�t know, is it too selfish that buying a pack of butts for someone is too much to ask? Actually, I don�t care. I�m sure this is some kind of reaction to being asked too much. Besides, I rarely even have enough spare cash in me to pick up a pack of butts. Hmm, I have ten dollars to buy some food, can I spend almost half on butts? Not even if you�re paying me back.
I make no sense, I know this. I�m just miserable and pissing and moaning.
Beavis was supposed to go back to school today, but his sack is full of fluid and is the size of a grapefruit. Doc says this is normal, but wants to see him anyway. Poor kid thinks his scrotum is going to be deformed forever. Maybe I should tell him about John Bobbitt? I mean, sure, it was his dick and not his sack, but still, maybe the kid could have some hope?
About that kid. I�m amazed that a nutcase like me has raised such a great kid. The nurses at the hospital were all so impressed with him. Everyone, EVERYONE tells me how wonderful he is for his age. You think 14 years old and you think, �Asshole�. I was. Butthead most certainly was. Hilda defines the term. But Beavis? Is great. How did I do that? Should I take all the credit, or chalk it up to good genes?
Mickey? Future white supremacist. One of my kids has to piss me off royally and that would be the way to go about it. Did I mention him and Josh trying to get me to say that �White people are good�? Yeah, I got about as much of a kick out of that as I did the one about �Black people are bad�. I kept him away from Josh for five days on account of that shit. But, today, he�s been with him all day and I�m sure they�ve got some KKK outfits made out of bed sheets all ready by now.
I�m sorry. This was all just a downer. I feel awful and no one else listens to me in real life.
In better news, three fake celebrity boyfriends have been making me kinda happy. Jake Gyllenhaal (OMG, just SUDDENLY got really hot to me. And it wasn�t Brokeback Mountain that did it, either), Mark Ruffalo and Joaquin Phoenix. That�s all I need is three cute dark haired boys to stare at. That, and tranquilizers.
Jackie out.