0033. grown children

I'm taking Spanish this semester even though I already speak the language. I needed a foreign language credit and for some reason the college didn't take my military Spanish credits. Whatever, it's an easy class and I figured I'd sleep through it. I was partially right. There are several people in the class that are beginners. They've never taken a Spanish class before and they're kind of lost. I don't blame them too much because the teacher moves a little fast. But I want to slap the shit out of all of them when they start bitching and whining and blaming everything on the teacher when I know for a fact that none of the little fuckers are studying outside of class. How the fuck are you going to learn if you don't study? And how are you going to blame it on the teacher when she gives you options. She bends over backwards to allow these adults children more than enough time to turn in their homework. Hell, I was sick for the past 2 weeks and couldn't finish a project. I asked her politely if I could turn in my questions and answers (in Spanish, covering the verbs in the chapter we tested on) today. She said yes. I assumed it was because I'm such a good student, but today she said she was taking work from everyone that had something missing from their portfolio. She's said more than once that no one has ever failed her class. I have a feeling that my "partner" (who is no longer my partner - I asked to change with someone else since I can’t have someone who is so freaking negative all the time pulling me down and fucking with my grades) is probably going to fail since he refuses to do any work outside of class, to include the projects that are due every test day. I’m so tired of being surrounded by these children! It must be nice to go to school on Mommy and Daddy’s money and not have to worry about things like GPAs and having to finish school to get a good job. 2 more years. Just 2 more years and I’ll be done with school. Please God let it go by quickly.

0024. I can admit when I'm being childish

So my last post was written while fairly drunk and in the middle of a tantrum. I admit that sometimes I can be a bit of a child. I'm 27, not 17. I sometimes have trouble remembering that.

The thing is, with how severe my social anxiety is, I don't want to go out often. PK has routinely told me that I've changed his entire lifestyle because he used to go out all the time and now he never goes out. Of course he gives himself away when I actually want to go somewhere and he tells me that he wants to stay home because he's "so tired" and he "never [gets] to stay home and relax because [he] never [has] time off".

Yes, I know that he works hard and often. I understand that. But why is it only when I want to go out that he's too tired for it? And why is it the things that I want to do that he's tired of (going to a bar in the area - i.e. Maribel's, Scout Bar, Monkey Bar, etc).

Maybe I'm still in the middle of my childish tantrum.

While I'm ranting... We had a "pow-wow" at work yesterday wherein we were told that we all need to help each other out. I found this a bit amusing, since my job entails filing, voicemail, whatever Boss Lady needs in the office, and backing the guys up because they're out front with students. I'd say about 85% of my time is spent in the front or standing in the office helping the guys because they know nothing.

The 2 new guys, I can totally understand why they need help. They've been here less than a month, they're bound to have a few questions here & there. But Lazy has been with us for MONTHS and he still routinely has to ask the most basic simple questions there are! And he made a comment on how the filing wasn't done Thursday afternoon. I'm sorry, would that be the day that we were so busy I didn't even have time to eat lunch? The day that I pick my kid up from school and have to RUN out the door? Yes, I believe so. And he also brought up a day where he asked me a question & I told him that I had to leave. That was on another Tuesday or Thursday. He claims it was 10 minutes before I had to leave, and yet I've routinely been late picking Monkey up because I've been too busy helping his stupid lazy ass out and taking care of students to leave right at 3:00.

I cannot tell you how many times I've told them that if I'm not OUT THE DOOR RIGHT AT 3:00 that I will be late to pick her up. And how many times I've left at 3:05, even as late at 3:10. I don't like it when Monkey is the last kid picked up. I don't like it when it's evident that she's been crying when I pick her up because she thinks Mommy has forgotten her. So fuck you for being upset that I told you I'm leaving and don't have time to answer your stupid ass question. Fuck you twice for implying that I said it 10 minutes before leaving because that shit has NEVER HAPPENED, Mr "I'm out 15 minutes before my shift is actually over".

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that? He leaves early. Every day. And he laughs about it! He even left me by myself on a Friday when the entire office was closing at 5:00. We do NOT leave before 5:00 because the Big Boss Lady (the one who's in charge of the entire office) gets pissed if we close our doors one second before 5:00. But our boss was out that day and he & I were the only ones there. He told me that his clock said it was 5:00, so he was leaving. I told him we don't go by our personal clocks, that we go by the one in the office and even then, we don't leave until all the students are gone and/or we've been given permission by TBBL to leave. He left anyway. I should've reported it to our boss, but I didn't because he was new and I didn't want to throw him under the bus like that.

But now? Oh, I can't wait for the first Greyhound to pass by because his ass is getting tossed directly in the line of fire.

0019. it seems all I do these days is rant...

I have a test tomorrow over the History of Galveston. I've made it clear since the moment I walked into the door at work that I have to study today. And yet Lazy decided that he should be allowed to leave early to study for his test... which isn't til next week.

It's bad enough that he gets "overwhelmed" or "swamped" when there's more than one student waiting or when he's asked to do something like filing (which is his main fucking job!), but to leave me hanging again? That's fucking BULLSHIT. He sits up front the entire time he's here on Facebook playing war games or wannabe-Sims (thereby taking up the computer and making it impossible for any of the other workstudies to do homework during the -ha!- slow times), he doesn't take the time to learn the system, he whines when he's given a task... Why the fuck is he working here? And was he seriously a Marine? He's giving the USMC a bad fucking name.

Our part-time workstudy came in shortly after Lazy left, and I got all excited that I'd actually have some help with the students and maybe have some time to study. But from the minute she walked in, she's been on her cell phone or talking to her brother. I know that she's got financial & medical issues going on that need to be taken care of, but she's supposed to be working. She's collecting a check right now and not doing her job. From everything that I've been taught throughout the 16 years I've been working (yes, I've been working since I was 11), that's equivalent to THEFT. Get off the fucking phone and do something.

My boss takes 2+ hour lunches to go pick up her kids. I get that she needs to pick up her kids, but a 2+ hour lunch? That's ridiculous! And the fact that I don't have the power to lift holds and I don't know all the answers and she's not here... more ridiuclous.

I'm frustrated and ready to quit. The measly $725 a month isn't fucking worth it. I'd rather go wait tables at this point. The only reason I'm not quitting is because any other job I'd get would require me to work weekends, and I'm not gonna do that while I'm in school. I don't get to spend enough time with my family as it is.

0018. Venting

I like helping people if I'm able to. I have no problem loaning a little bit of money, babysitting, or helping with homework. But I don't like being taken advantage of and I don't like being treated like it's my duty to serve people. It's not. It's my duty to make sure that my daughter grows up happy, healthy, and well-adjusted (because let's face it, she needs to be well-adjusted with a crazy ass mom like me). It's not my duty to pick up after people, make sure that their lives are in order, or wait for HOURS while they wake up, do other homework, and get their shit together.

In other news, my house is spotless and dinner was fabulous. My stress relief for today was cleaning the house top to bottom and making dinner. I cleaned the living room, the kitchen, both bedrooms, and the bathroom. I have 2 small loads of laundry left to do, and then it will be done. Completely. Even the sheets, towels, and blankets (which I always leave for last). And even though it went slightly against my diet, I made baked tilapia with lemon juice (not against the diet), olive oil, sea salt, and parsley (against the diet). I also made asparagus (not against the diet) and crescent rolls (against the diet, and I only had 1).

I've been really good about this diet for the past 2 weeks. And I'm starving. MIL made me realize that what I'm doing is basically an amped up version of the Atkins diet, which I've been preaching against for quite a while. So, I'm still doing the protein shakes and the fat burning pills (I ran out of the cleanse stuff), I'm also allowing myself slightly more food, while still eating healthily.

0016. we always find things we've never seen before...

iTunes: nada - Monkey's watching Backyardigans on TV
mood: tired & irritated

I have one more paper to write for my Medical Terminology class, which I can turn in early so I plan on doing that just to get the class out of the way. I have one more test in my Government class (but no idea when that will be since the professor isn't exactly big on the whole communication thing), and two more for my Texas History class (which I love and wish would never end). I'm ready for this semester to be over! I can't imagine what it's going to be like when I finally get into nursing school!

I’m tired and stressed and that doesn’t exactly equal for happy MK. I have an hour to get to class and 2 ½ hours until I have to go to work. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t want to deal with the newbie who gets pissy because he’s not used to working anymore. I’m sorry, but you were a freaking Sgt in the Marines. If you’re not used to work, then you must’ve sucked a lot of dick to get to E5. I don’t care if you haven’t worked since you got out – Marines work hard. End of story. So for you to get all whiny and pissy when someone tells you to freaking go take some envelopes to the post office is beyond ridiculous and you should be strung up and whipped with a wet noodle for being such a bitch about it. Jesus fucking Christ. Grow the fuck up. You’re 27 years old and you act like you’re a child. My daughter knows more about responsibility and doing what you’re told and she’s FIVE!

Sorry, I had to vent that for a minute. I just want to take the day off of work, take a nap, and ignore the urge to pull my fingernails out by the roots rather than deal with dipshits and asshats. This is why I’m not good at customer service (and I’m going into nursing??)

Speaking of... I’ve been seriously re-thinking going into nursing as my history class progresses. I love my history class. I love history. So why am I going into a field where I’m not sure I want to be instead of going into a field where I can do what I love? Mostly because of money. The GI Bill requires that I follow a certain degree plan once I’ve chosen it. And if I change from pre-health to history, most of the classes I’ve taken in preparation for the nursing program won’t fit, and the GI Bill won’t be able to pay for the other classes that are required for a history degree. Also, nurses make WAY more money than history teachers do, even though high school teachers make around $50,000 a year to start in the Houston area. So, I’m stuck prepping for and heading into the nursing program. Which, let me be honest, isn’t exactly my cuppa right now.

Whine, whine, whine. Now I’m the whiner. I really do need a vacation.

0015. I haz anger.

iTunes: nothing

Mood: pissed the hell off

We have 2 cats named Stinky & Ditto. They may seem cute & cuddly, but in reality, they're devil cats sent straight from the pits of hell to annoy me to death.

The thing is, I don't really like cats. I hate them, actually. I never really have been an animal person, but in the last 7 or 8 years, I've really gotten to the point where I loathe those little asshole balls of fur who exist to piss me off.

It started with the cats my roommate Nerf & I had. Their names were Harm & Mac (yes, we named them after the characters from JAG). We didn't have the money to get them fixed, so Harm started spraying the apartment. Mac decided to follow his lead and she started peeingeverywhere. I ended up getting rid of them and paying to have the carpet cleaned, but it was so bad that the apartment complex had to replace the carpets, the padding, and have the concrete below it cleaned.

This makes me seem like I'm not a clean person. I am. I have OCD and I routinely bleach everything in the house. If it doesn't smell like bleach, it doesn't smell clean to me and that makes me insane (told you - OCD). On weekends, I've been known to get in the corners with a bucket of bleach water & clean the baseboards with a toothbrush. I blame my mom for making us do this when we were kids, but I also thank her for it,because my house is spotless. And I usually get my security deposit back when I move (obviously, I didn't in the other place).

When PK moved in, Ditto came as part of the package. He had another cat named Sam as well, and I really loved him (he was more like a dog than a cat, and he was cool as hell), but he died shortly after they moved in from heart disease. Ditto is friendly, but he's definitely PK's cat. He climbs into PK's lap when he gets home, and sneaks up to PK's face to try and get kisses from him. It's really cute to watch, actually.

Because I wasn't sure if PK was going to move in or not (at the time) and I wanted Monkey to have a pet to grow up with, I got Stinky from my mom (Monkey re-named him... he used to be Gibbs -from NCIS- but when he moved here, his food got changed to indoor cat food, and his tummy didn't adjust right away... Monkey said he was STINKY! and it stuck).

So now, I'm stuck with 2 cats. And a bird (her name's Tessa. She's relatively cool, except for the fact that she tosses her food out on the floor all around her cage... and her cage smells weird, even right after I clean it out -- birds are gross).

The reason why I haz anger? Last week (the week before?), when PK was at rehearsal, I was hanging around the house. I was on the phone with my cousin MamaDee when I decided I was going to head into my room to watch my shows. When I walked into my room, I noticed that it smelled pretty strongly of poo in there. The bathroom connects to our bedroom, so I went to close the door while whichever asshole was in there could finish & cover it up with the entirely too expensive cat litter I have to buy every week. But the odor didn't leave when I closed the door.

I walked over to my side of the bed so that I could take off my jewelry before launching an investigation as to where the hell the smell was coming from. And that's when I saw it. Stinky was sitting on my bed... next to a fresh pile of dung.

Even though I was still on the phone with MamaDee, I started freaking out. I screamed at the cat (who promptly RAN out of the bedroom) and started gagging (I don't do well with poop - it's gross). Then I started crying because a) there's poop on my bed b) I don't have any clean sheets and c) I'd just cleaned out the litter box. I scoop it out daily, but I replace the litter at least once a week. Like I said before: OCD.

So, I hung up the phone, picked up the nasty & flushed it, then set about the task of washing both sets of sheets so that we'd have something to sleep on. I called my mom and cried. I called Jaime and cried (sorry about that - I'm a whackjob, I know). And then I put on my big girl panties and dealt with it. Of course, I kicked the little bastards out of my room and haven't allowed them back in since, but that's beside the point.

When PK got home, I calmly told him what happened, and then told him I couldn't handle it anymore. There's no reason for either cat to be shitting on our bed. There's even less reason for Ditto to be peeing on the wall by the bathtub or by the main door to the bathroom (I've caught him doing it).

I have anger issues sometimes. I may have a long fuse, but once my temper blows, it's explosive and you don't want to be in the way when I go off. And when I saw that pile on my bed, I saw RED. I imagined throwing the little fucker out the window and praying he hit something on the way down (we live on the 2nd floor). I've imagined kicking them clear across the room. I would NEVER harm an animal that way, but I've certainly imagined it.

I've been asking PK for a few months now to fix Monkey's door. It doesn't latch properly, and the cats sneak in there at night. It's cute when they want to sleep with her, but when I was leaving her closet door open all the time, they took it upon themselves to pee in there. I borrowed my mom's steam cleaner to clean the carpet in there, and started closing the door. I thought that was the end of it.

I was wrong.

Tonight, Monkey was being difficult and didn't want to go to eat her dinner. We've been having issues with her not wanting to eat unless it's chicken nuggets, hamburgers, or mac & cheese, so we sent her to bed without anything else. I always feel bad when I do it, but if she doesn't learn, she'll never eat what she's given.

Anyway. We sent her to her room to put on her jammies. She kissed PK good night & I told her to climb into her bed and I'd be there in a minute for prayers & to tuck her in (I was cleaning up the kitchen from dinner). She went into her room and shouted "Mooooommmmm! There's pee on my bed!" I immediately thought she'd accidentally wet the bed, although there wasn't anything there this morning, and she hasn't done that for months. So, I went in there and she pointed to a yellowish stain on her white down comforter. I leaned down to smell it, and sure enough, it was cat urine.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Then, she pointed to her (closed) closet door and says "Mommy, there's poop!" And I immediately yell for PK because I'm livid again.

He comes into her room, sees the pee on her bed and the poop by her closet, and immediately walks out again. At first, I'm pissed because he's not dealing with it, but then he comes back in with a toolbox and starts working on her door to keep the little fucks out of there. He tried his best, but wasn't able to fix it tonight. He's going to have to get a file and a chisel and work on it.

And yeah, I'm happy that he's finally working on it, but I asked him to fix her door or to teach me how to do it months ago. He used to tell me that he likes the fact that the cats go in to sleep with her at night and that's why he wasn't fixing it, but honestly... I think he was just being lazy. And that pisses me off too. Because if he hadn't been lazy, the asshole cats wouldn't have been able to defile her room.

I want to get rid of the stupid fucking cats and never have to deal with them again. But I can't. Because they're not mine, and PK & Monkey love them. I will say this though - when they die, that's it. No more cats. No more birds. No dogs. No guinea pigs. No hampsters. MAYBE we'll get some fish. But I refuse to get any more animals that I'm going to have to take care of (when I don't even like the stupid things!) and are going to make a big fucking mess.

Edit: Yes, I know it's kind of funny that they pooped on my bed. It's disgusting, but it's funny. I can see that through the haze of anger. But it's disgusting, unsanitary, and just plain wrong, so I reserve the right to be livid.

0014. heaven cannot wait forever

iTunes: The First Taste - Fiona Apple
Mood: irritated

I want to start off by saying that I enjoy my job. I do. Helping veterans get back into school is awesome and rewarding. But I've been getting more and more frustrated with certain aspects.

• Vets who act like they have no idea WTF they're doing. You've been attending school for how long now and you don't know that you have to turn in your fee slip and a request for certification? Come on, now. That's just plain stupid.
  
• And it KILLS ME when they come in demanding to know why they haven't been paid yet when they turned their paperwork in just a few weeks ago. We warned them that it would take a while because they waited until the last minute. It's the VA. Do you really expect them to be ahead of the game? Um. No. They're part of the government. They move slower than a snail. Get used to it or turn your shit in early -- like we tell you to when you register for classes every semester!
  
• The boss lady is cool as hell... most of the time. It feels like she plays favorites, and if there's one thing I can't abide, it's favoritism.
• I was there by myself on Friday because one coworker had a pre-arranged day off to take care of a few things. The other coworker had mentioned taking off because we were going to have 3 people there (me, him, & the other coworker)... but then we remembered that boss lady wasn't coming in and the other coworker had appointments all day. Darn. Then he suddenly remembers that he has to do something with his car, so he calls boss lady and asks if he can take it into the shop "real quick". This leads to the assumption that he's got a ride back and he'll return in a little while. Nope. I was alone ALL DAY. It was a fairly slow day, comparatively speaking, but leaving me by myself is NOT FUCKING COOL.

I have midterms today (Government) and tomorrow (Texas History). I took the Government exam before I came into work, so I don't have to study for that, but I have to majorly study for History... and I got left alone AGAIN today.

W. T. F. ?!??!

I have a headache already, but it got worse after boss lady left with our part timer (who'd only arrived minutes before leaving) and they went to lunch. They were gone more than an hour! When they got back at 4:30, I asked to go home early so that I could study. I picked Monkey up, and decided that I needed to rant a bit before starting to study again. I'm thinking we'll have to order dinner tonight unless PK wants to cook. I'm too tired and have too much studying to do to cook tonight.

0008. nothing about you is typical

iTunes: Britney Spears - Unusual You
Mood: irritated

We got a call at 1:00am saying that one of our friends had been involved in an accident. This friend has had his share of accidents, so I'm sorry to say that we weren't incredibly surprised. In fact, he's nearly killed PK twice in a matter of months. They were in such a bad accident that PK broke his chest. Yes. His chest. It's possible to do, I promise.

Our friend is ok, which also isn't much of a shock. He's never the one that gets hurt when he tears off in his suped up car. We're waiting on information about our other friend who was in the car. The last we heard, he was bleeding out of his ears and being taken to the hospital.

PK and I have been talking about the friend who was driving and have decided that Monkey will never ride in the car with him. Neither will I. PK is a grown man who is capable of making his own decisions, and sometimes he does get into the car with our friend, but he's always scared to do so... so most of the time, he insists that he (PK) drive instead. I've let my younger brother ride home with our friend a few times, but I'll be refusing that offer next time, despite the fact that they only live down the street from each other.

It's not that I don't like or trust our friend. I just don't trust his driving. He's reckless and doesn't care about anyone except himself. I'm very close to one of his daughters, and I'm terrified that I'm going to have to hold her while she cries when he kills himself or someone else.

PK has tried to talk to our friend. His parents have talked to him. His friends have talked to him. I don't think that me saying something would help if everyone else hasn't helped. This accident was minor, and apparently his car doesn't even have that much damage. But he and another friend spent the night in the hospital because of his recklessness and hotrodding. And he laughed about it this morning when he talked to PK! "Oh, I don't remember why the accident happened. But I do know that my car isn't really that messed up..." He doesn't remember having the accident, but he knows the exact damage done to his car? Sorry, I don't buy it. He just doesn't want to admit that he fucked up again and that he was being stupid and dangerous and could have killed someone.

He hasn't yet. But if he doesn't pull his shit together SOON I'm afraid that he will.

0005. it messed me up, need a second to breathe

iTunes: Adam Lambert - What do you want from me
Mood: LIVID

I took Monkey for shots today. The county clinic (which was free) didn't have Varicella. While they did inform me they were out of it, they failed to inform me that she had to have the shot the same day as the rest of her shots, or she'd have to wait 30 goddamned days to get the Varicella - which she has to have for school, or they absolutely will NOT allow her to enroll in school. I called 15 motherfucking doctors and clinics trying to find someone who would give her the shot.

If they had the shot, they weren't accepting anyone else for the day. If they were accepting people, they didn't have the shot. And she HAD to have the shot today because it's a live virus, and so is the MMR shot she got today. If she were to get the Varicella tomorrow (or even next week, when the clinic said they'd get the Varicella shot in again), there's a huge chance of a bad reaction.

Thanks for fucking telling me that she had to have the shot today and making sure the other free motherfucking clinic just down the street is a) open and b) has the goddamned shot. Oh wait, THEY DIDN'T!


I'm calm now. Sort of. Really bad headache because of all the stressing. I cried when she got the shots (all 4 of them), I cried when I couldn't find the 4th shot, and I cried when I had to ask PK for $169 to cover the fucking shot that we should've gotten for fucking free. GODDAMNIT! I'm not calm. I'm fucking LIVID.

When I brought Monkey up to the shop to get PK's credit card so he could pay the outrageous fee for the shot (I fucking hate not having insurance - and that's a whole other post in & of itself), she crawled into his lap and cried about how "Mommy let them poke [her]. [She doesn't] like pokies." Then she begged him not to make her get anymore pokies. Begged. With tears in her eyes and everything! We talked for a few minutes and tried to find a closer (and cheaper) clinic, and she fell asleep in his lap. When it was time for me to take her from him, she woke up and cried because mommy the meanie was trying to take her from daddy.

That NEVER happens. Monkey goes to me first before anyone else. Including the grandparents who spoil the shit out of her. So for her to cling to PK over me when I was just trying to take care of her and get her everything she needs in order to go to school, it shattered my heart.

I don't ever want to have to do that again.