moodymama's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Give me boring any day. Diary, that exhusband of mine is coming unglued. All I suggested to him today was that he stop harassing me all day and get off his ass and go to work so he can afford to send me my money. The man came undone, Diary. Sigh. I guess I could've said it nicer but I'm tired of talking to him already. Or letting him talk. I think I get some kind of twisted thrill out of listening to him go to pieces on the phone. Mostly I listen and make retarded comments like "oh that's so awful...now when can I expect my check?" Anyhoo, The Girl decided not to audition for drama today because she found out that it would change her entire schedule. She'd have to go to early bird P.E. which starts before school even begins. She adores all of her teachers too. I especially like her AAP English teacher who is one of those artsy, progressive types. Like the kids can lounge where they want while she teaches and she has these cool art-deco chairs for "tea time". During reading hour the kids can take turns having herbal tea in these comfy chairs. Too cool. So The Girl inquired about sports and decided that she definitely wants to try out for the swim team since she's a fish. Born in Texas, but still a water baby. She also wants to join the yearbook staff. I hope she's not overwhelming herself because she still wants to remain in Girl Scouts and join this girl's club called Studio B, which is like a support type group for young teenaged girls. The Boy has nothing on his agenda this year other than to hunt and fish with Dad and hone in on his skateboarding skills. Such a cruiser this year, my son. Oh, and I fixed the Road Runner issue my damn self. I went two weeks without cable internet access and those bastards were not able to help me. Supposedly, they weren't recognizing their own server's IP address. I don't give a shit about that technical bullcrap, just give me what I paid for, ya know? So today all I did was do a system restore back to when I last got cable access and voila, I am here and not on dial-up. How ya like them apples, Road Runner fuckas! Damn, can you give me a job now? Oh yeah, I went to that assessment for that bank last week and guess what? I must the only asshole this side of the continent to have ever failed a personality inventory. Ha! Supposedly the assessment revealed that I am not suitable for environments that involve doing repetitive tasks on a daily basis. Pshhht. What do they think I do every day now? Yesterday's classifieds had nothing of interest unless you're in the health field, the printing/publishing field, or an accountant. Oh yeah, and let's not forget fast food. I'm about to say screw getting my bachelor's altogether and just take a ten month LPN program so I can start working already. I am fed up. Have nothing planned tonight other than to work on another jigsaw puzzle with the crew. We finished that 1000 piece one the other night. We couldn't go to bed until we did! Maybe we'll go to W@lmart and get another one. Yeah I know, I'm being lame. You wouldn't believe how nice it feels to have a boring life once you see how the other half lives. 4:17 p.m. - Monday, Aug. 16, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pitiful I want to change my template again. Not feeling so damn groovy anymore. Yesterday was nice. Unusually cool for an August day in the Carolinas. Today is too, which I don't mind. Makes yardwork and being outdoors much more enjoyable. Spent most of yesterday in a peculiar, sleepy slumber. Nodded off throughout the day while T cleaned the house and tended to the children. The phone went unanswered until Gerry called and we chatted for an hour or so. He's dating again and likes to ask me odd questions like how much is too much when calling a girl you just met. Or what are the wrong things to say when it comes to black women. Yes, she's black. His family will just shit bricks and so will his psycho ex-wife. I feel bad about that too. She used to be my friend too. I mean, she still is, but during the initial awkward phase of the newly divorced they tend to want to know who's on their side. So I guess I've set up camp on his. He's the blood relative of my older children and he was my friend before I ever met her or Sperm Donor. My loyalties should be with him, I feel. Speaking of Sperm Donor, I got an email from him this morning. He used his "dead" wife's email address. Today he wants to play mind games and twist my words and such. Like supposedly I taught my children to hate him and that makes me a Horrible Mother. He says that they'll hate my guts when they're older. Now he says that I'd told him to stay lost and lose my number when I remarried. I'm starting to think that the man is deranged, seriously. I'm not really sure if his history of narcotic use has made him batty or if the marbles are knocking around upstairs. I'm starting to feel a little sorry for him. I can't imagine what it must be like for him and his wife to wake up every day and sit on this ball of rage and ugliness that eats up their insides. I even feel sorry for their boys right now because from what I've heard on the phone, they're just as mentally corrupt as their parents. How awful to knowingly pass your madness on to your children. Anyway, this morning's email said that while my children have been living "in the lap of luxury", he has taken his family to homeless shelters twice in the past year. Waaaaa. Even if they were hoarded into a concentration camp for the insane and prodded daily with hot irons up the ass, it's still not my problem. Again he told the sob story about how his wife had lupus and breast cancer that took away her two tits. I don't give a shit if his or the bitch's head came clean off of their heads and rolled down the street. They still have hands. Write out my child support check and leave me the fuck alone. I lied. Maybe I don't feel sorry for them after all. You reap what you sow. 8:46 a.m. - Monday, Aug. 16, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I screwed up somewhere. Got home half an hour ago to find a message from That Bastard Who Should Die Already. Diary, I'm really starting to believe that his wife really did die because now he has oodles of time to harass me and cause me distress. If she were alive, he would not be allowed to contact me, the children, or any other member of his family. So tonight he played nice and addressed the message to me and T. "Hey, it's me...calling to talk about the kids...please pick up, I know y'all are home...I'll keep callin' back until y'all answer." I don't know where he's calling from because his home number is disconnected and this one is showing up as unavailable. I get this funny feeling deep down in the pit of my stomach when I hear that voice. I can't explain it. It's like this person deemed me unworthy of speaking to for the past four or five years and suddenly, I am so privileged to be acknowledged. And I hate how when I am on the phone with him I am silent. I just listen, still shocked that he's even on the phone. Ugly words come out of his mouth and I say almost nothing. I make odd, feeble attempts to defend myself while sitting there just appalled that someone hates me that damn much. Hates me so much that he allowed it to contaminate what little love he had for his own children. In a way, I feel that I must have done something truly God awful for him to feel that way about us and have at least done something to deserve this. Maybe I didn't try hard enough to help him. He has some deep-seated issues. If I had been any kind of wife to him, I would have seen that and had tried to help him. Now I feel sick all over again and my stomach cramping is back. 9:30 p.m. - Saturday, Aug. 14, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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