Aug. 22nd, 2002

rockettqween: (Default)
Arrrggghhh. I will now organize my thoughts.

Things I am pissed off about

-My workout partner and I live with a roommate who is being a pissy little bitch. I am reminded why I hate having roommates.

-Guy I thought was interested in just hanging out said he would have to break up my workout partner and myself. Die in fire loser. I think we'd better forget about dinner.

-My mommy doesn't love me. (sniff)

-My dad didn't fix my son's toy for him like he said he would because he was "too tired". He's a kid for chrissakes. Take a minute to make him happy will ya? I could have fixed it in less than five minutes. This is what I heard about when I called the little one today. I feel very powerless even though I am the one called "Mom".

-Was told at child support hearing that even though I haven't worked full time since June 2001, I was still liable for full time child support for all the months I wasn't working. Biological dad has been assigned $25 a month support because he doesn't work and is strung out lurking in the U-district somewhere, possible in jail or dead if there is a god. He is not the one called "Dad". That's my nutty ex-husband's job. Nutty ex-husband has had parental rights removed since we are divorced. Nutty ex-husband acted as single dad for over a year and no matter what his and my issues are, he did a good job as a dad. Junkie bio-dad still has parental rights and never did anything for kid except take him and hide out in a van in the winter, shooting up in front of him and not paying attention to who he chose as a baby-sitter. (If I ever find out who abused my kid in that short period of time, the penalty is death, thank you very much.) Why does junkie bio-dad have rights? Why can't he at least be placed with his "Dad" if he can't be with me? Why are my fucked-up parents raising my kid? Hearing has been postponed another 90 days as I requested legal counsel.

-I haven't had this many anxiety attacks since 1997. Bad year. 2001 may be close runner up. At least 2001 is over.

-My workout partner's mother never finished my hair color. I've been this weird calico mix of blonde, red, and black for too freaking long. I was supposed to get blonde highlights but instead I seem to have black lowlights. My son was complaining about there only being an "itty bitty piece" of black in my hair. Believe me, I'm complaining too. And I have split ends.

-My 12-step sponsor never returns my phone calls.

-I miss living on the hill. Roommate problems are stressing me out. I have a history of roommate conflict. I would love to just live with my workout partner. Unfortunately $$ does not currently permit. Unfortunately the house we live in is owned by said "pissy little bitch roommate". He could kick us out I suppose, however he's a long time friend of workout partner. I've had such bad roommate karma over the years I fear he will say that my workout partner can stay but I've gotta go. I am much more comfortable living alone or with a significant other as every time I've had a roommate, my residence has been cut short and I've been sent packing without much notice for all kinds of different reasons. Never the same reason twice. I guess it's a neurotic fear. I also don't feel like I have any place to say anything as I am not the "breadwinner" here nor was it ever really discussed that I live there, it was just kind of assumed after a while and then when my last lovely roommate booted me at the last minute, I found myself faced with the logic of "half my clothes are there, I sleep there most of the time and I can't pay rent anywhere else I guess I'll get some mail here too."

I've only had living space stability as an independent renter. It's about the only time I really feel safe putting pictures on the wall because I'm not living in fear that I'm just going to have to take them down again when someone decides I shouldn't be there.

I'm trying to stick it out. Hopefully some sort of income will present itself so I feel I have more control over things. I miss having a crummy dingy studio with a few condiments in the fridge and a can of corned beef hash. At least I like living with my workout partner. He seems to share a lot of the same philosophies about living space that I have.

I just want to cry. Between kid stuff, roommate stuff, and money stuff.
rockettqween: (Default)
I just went to steakandcheese.com and looked at the pictures. This web site is not for the faint hearted.

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