08 February 2010
Frickin' Miserable
Ok, so I try not to frequent Walmart, but here’s the deal: they sell the cheapest diapers. They do. I have started researching cloth diapers, and the experience I had at Walmart today after purchasing disposables only underscores that need. The need to get cloth diapers and stop going to Walmart. But this post isn’t about cloth diapers, per se. I can’t judge, I used disposable diapers for Sweetman.
Ok, so out we come with kitty litter and diapers in the boot of the stroller. The stroller is one of those that you can click the carseat into it, so it’s pretty bulky. There is a car parked pretty close to the driver’s side of my vehicle, and it’s running. I tried to pull the stroller up in between the two vehicles, but it didn’t fit. I will admit, I was annoyed. But, there was nothing I could do about it, so I backed the stroller up, took the carseat out and proceeded to scooch in between the two vehicles. As I’m doing so, a lady gets out of the car beside me and says, “How are you doing there, do you need me to move?” That was nice of her I thought, but I’ve already disengaged the carseat and started to open the van door, so I say, “I just couldn’t fit the stroller through, but I got it, it’s ok.” And I SWEAR I did not think I said this in any kind of a bitchy/cranky voice at all – and I’m aware that I can have a bitchy/cranky voice sometimes, but I honestly didn’t try to for this. So, she says, “Why are people here so frickin’ miserable? I’ll move the car!” And that pissed me off, so I said in a shrill voice this time, “I said it’s ok!” By this time, the carseat is engaged and both kids are in the car. By the time she’s back in her car and moving it, I’ve got the stroller in the back of the van, and I’m getting in to the driver’s seat and moving her car is of absolutely no use to me. But she did so anyway. I hope it made her feel better. In hindsight, I shoulda said, “You wanna know why I’m miserable? I’ll tell you why I’m miserable! I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in over three months, I have a baby with a cold, it’s the one month anniversary of the death of one of my best friends, and I have to cram my 17 pound baby through this small space because you don’t know how to park. That’s why I’m miserable! What’s your excuse?” But, of course, I’m not witty like that. I always think of these things hours or days later when they are of little or no use to me. And I was just so taken aback because I was genuinely NOT being miserable. I’d hate to see how she’d react to an actually miserable person.
The part that bothers me is that it made me cranky, and then I quanked at Sweetman and was less patient with him than I should have been. And maybe this lady bitched out whomever she was waiting for from Walmart when they got back because she was cranky. It spread a nice little wave of crankiness through us both. I did take some deep breaths and ensure I wasn’t cranky at Sweetman anymore after the initial quank, and I was extra nice to the next customer service representative I encountered.
There is a nice little diamond in the rough to this experience, though. After having relayed it to the Lovely Miss Italia, she led me to this sweet little website. Oh the hours of horrified joy I will have combing the archives of this little gem. My favourite so far is the pink poodle.
In other news, I’m worried that my mother is acting like a 16 year old with her dating choices. This is a 50 year old woman who has decided it would be a good idea to date a man while he is in the middle of rehab. We’re talking in a rehab centre here, people. And my mom basically put her life on hold for the past three months so she could spend every Saturday and Sunday from 1-4pm with him. This man’s ex-wife has a restraining order against him, for what, I don’t know, but I can only assume that it has something to do with domestic violence. This man also has a court date with family court to pay up on negligent child support or something like that and pending CRIMINAL CHARGES which could land him in jail. When I asked my mother what for, she said, “I think it’s a DUI.” This is the woman who didn’t let me go to school dances for fear of the debauchery taking place in a chaperoned highschool gymnasium. To this, all I can say is: Jesus Fuck, Mom! But I can’t say that to her, that would only offend her.
Anyways, I got this email from her today saying Buddy is out of rehab and moving into the men’s shelter till he can find a job. Once said job is found, they will be purchasing a house together so he can bring his dog here???? Yeah, I SO have a bad feeling about this. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t NOT say anything to her about this. I am Concerned with a capital C. Is she 100% confident that Buddy is not abusive? Should she really be tying her financial future to this guy? I know I know, she is a grown up, she is perfectly capable of making her own decisions (mistakes). And I will abide whatever decision she makes, but boy do I wanna get this guy in a room alone for five minutes. I shall use The Glare.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment