Hate & Discontent

I'll start by saying that, if you're of the male persuasion, you may just want to click away. For the last week, I've been in a hateful mood, which is primarily why I haven't posted. But as a new week begins, and my mood stays just as crappy, I'm starting to notice a trend. Instead of bitching about how much life sucks, I'll just break down the last 7 days.

Monday :: Boy is still sick and lying on the couch refusing medical treatment. I leave to take the kid to school, only to discover that I have a flat tire. The last person to drive the car? The boy. So, I call the boy, he ignores the ringing phone the first 7 times I call him. Not deterred, I continue calling until he picks up. I inquire about the flat tire, he insists he doesn't know. When I question further, he hangs up on me. I call my dad. Consider moving in to a hotel until boy is on the mend.

Tuesday :: Work at part-time job until noon. Go to meeting related to real job from 12:45 to 2:15. Arrive 45 minutes late to PTO meeting that started at 1:30, only to find that they are just finishing up. Drive like a bat out of hell to get home and pack the swim bag that the kid forgot to pack the night before. Find the boy still lying on the couch, but with antibiotics and a $600 Emergency room bill. Apparently he did not realize that there is such a thing as a PCP. Go do the carpool thing, go back to part-time job until 5. Haul kid to pool for swim practice and realize 1/2 way there that I've forgotten to pack her clean underwear. Kid is pissed. She then realizes that I've packed snacks she doesn't like. Kid is more pissed. Get to the pool, get settled, and kid approaches with smirk on her face. "Don't get too comfortable, you forgot my swimsuit." Now kid is close to hysterics, I race home, across town, grab a swimsuit and come back, only to find her already in the pool in someone else's suit. Thanks for calling to let me know you little shit.

Wednesday :: Try to catch up on my normal job. Furnace quits working. Furnace repair guy comes over and replaces a fuel filter and tells us that we need a new oil tank. Oh, and by the way, "your chimney isn't drafting properly either. You'll want to call a chimney sweep." Great.

Thursday :: Someday sister-in-law calls to see if it might be okay for her to take the dog to Bethel for the weekend, and leave her in a strangers house while she goes skiing. I say that no, I don't think that will work, and ask if she needs us to make other arrangements for the dog since we will be out of town. She assures me that everything is fine. Again, try to get my writing together. Book outline due soon. Review with the New York Times Company coming soon. Can't work fast enough. Swim practice at 5:30. Even though I'm crazy busy, it does not occur to the boy to take the kid to practice. Apparently I have the ability to be in 7 places at once. 7:30 phone call from someday sister-in-law. Oops, her plans have changed, so she'll let the dog out tomorrow night and then her mother will be by the next day to let her out. The dog will be okay home alone, overnight, right? Since she left me a voicemail, I didn't get the opportunity to tell her that, "no, actually, the dog won't be okay home alone overnight because she has ridiculous anxiety and attachment issues and she'll eat the holy hell out of our house. But don't worry about it, because you're going skiing and you've given your mother permission to come in to our house and go through all our shit while we're not here. Great. I hope you have a fantastic fucking time skiing with your friends." Get home, bitch to the boy who cannot understand why I'm in a pissy mood. Kid is having a meltdown because she now thinks that the boy is going to stay home with the dog rather than go watch her swim. Try to get bags packed for State Swim Meet in Orono over the weekend.

Friday :: Go get my fat ass weighed in at Weight Watchers. I loose nearly a pound, although I'm not sure how that's possible considering the fact that I've been in a pissy mood and eating nothing but Ring-Dings and potato chips for the last 5 days. I take the 8/10th's of a pound. I finally get around to calling my someday sister-in-law back, since she was kind enough to leave me another message, just to make sure I got the first one, to tell her that she doesn't need to be bothered with our dog - we've made other arrangements. While I refrain from saying too much, I do let her know, ever so nicely, that her last minute bail-out on us nearly fucked up our entire trip. Leave for the 2 1/2 hour drive to Orono.

Saturday :: Up at 6 am so the kid can be in the pool by 7:30. Spend the entire morning screaming my heart out for my girl. Just like every other parent. Leave UMO with a ginormous migrane. Walk out in the parking lot and realize that we're going to be driving home in white-out conditions on the turnpike. Stop to have lunch and spend the entire meal listening to a woman, who was also at the meet, talk on her cell phone about how it was so packed that had there been a fire, everyone would have perished. Nice. Saddle up to the steering wheel because the boy was tired and white-knuckle my way home. 5 hours later, we arrive back in Portland. Again, the boy cannot understand why I'm tired, or in a bad mood. I begin to say that it might have something to do with the fact that I didn't get a 5 hour nap on the way home, but think that it must be so obvious, it doesn't need to be stated. Apparently, I was wrong.

Sunday :: Spend the day taking the dog to the beach and grocery shopping. While I am not a grocery Nazi, I do not buy shitty things. My normal grocery bill runs somewhere around $150 for the three of us. Yesterday, when I brought the boy shopping with me, I spent $225 and came home with a car full of Cocoa-Puffs, ice cream, and cookies. In the afternoon, I broach the subject of finances and how, I really need the remained of his tax return that he's hoarding to pay off the $850 cash advance he took on our credit card - remember? The one he didn't bother to mention to me? Ah yes. He just cannot see why it needs to be paid off right now. Somehow 30% interest doesn't bother him. I get pissy and spend the remainder of the day in my room watching DVD's.

Monday :: Thank God. The week from hell is over. Oh no! It's not. Go to the car to take the kid to school. Keys (both sets) are locked inside car. My car is blocking the boys truck in the driveway. Kid is missing her basketball game and is going to be late for MEA testing. End up dragging kid to shool via foot, getting her there just in time. AAA comes and saves the day. Go to the p/t job, spend the day pissy, come home and find that, while the boy has been home all day, the dishes are not done, the laundry is all over the bed, and he's had time to take a nap.

Explain to me how exactly that works out.