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4:27 p.m. - 2010-06-10

So yeah. It's been a while. For someone as prolific and chatty as I am these four absent days are equal to other bloggers' month away.

I am going to try a Good Thing/ Bad Thing approach because too much whining is boring, but so is relentless inane cheerfulness.

Good Thing
'Management'- starring Jennifer Anniston and Steve Zahn. Perhaps at another time or other level of hormonal fuckery I'd have found this movie hokey and self-consciously cute, but right now I thought it very sweet. Quirky. More allegorical than actual, if you can dig that. Also I absolutely related to Jennifer Anniston's uptight "must be a GOOOOOOOOOD person always" character almost too well for comfort.

Bad Thing
The other day Wolf was in the living room doinking around with his Wii and I was preparing dinner in the kitchen. I opened an upper cabinet and a HUGE tumble of storage containers and dry goods boxes attacked me. The resultant clatter and screams of pain and fright from moi would have snagged the attention and concern of regular people, but there was Wolf completely oblivious and uncaring. Didn't even pause his game to ask if I was okay, let alone actually come into the kitchen to see for himself.

You know what? I don't fricken care how autistic or what level of Aspie you are, that's just some cold shit. A huge clatter, screams of pain and cursing from your own g-d mother isn't interesting or important enough to elicit a response? Bullshit.

I spun down into a bad, bad place. The one that remembered my ex-husband stepping over my prone body on the floor to make himself a sandwich. Couldn't even bother to ask why I was lying there or whether I needed help. The one who remembered the elder son who blames me for his own failures of character and has since refused to speak to me once I stopped footing his bills…and my heart broke. This younger son was cut from the same horrifically self-involved cloth. What the fuck do I mean to these people who I gave birth to? Loved? Gave up my own dreams and ambitions for? For what? That they can sit within 8' of me and not give a shit if I'd been hurt? Whether I was bleeding? If, God forbid, they needed to expend the massive energy to dial 911 before going back to their so very important activities?

I cried and cried and cried. Felt so worthless, so duped, so inconsequential that it was almost beyond bearing. Just another reason I refuse to have a gun in the house. At that moment I would have happily blown my head off. A coward's death, surely, but preferable to having to live with the truth I mean nothing to the two people I gave birth to.

Good Thing
My current fave denim skirt is loose and sits low on my hips. This despite my recent consumption of mass quantities of less than stellar and nutritious foodstuffs.

Bad Thing
Mick once again succeeded in terrorizing me into the dog place. That whipped, terrified, placating, puking from panicked idiocy mindset that when I can come out of it leaves me ashamed and humiliated. This time it was because he didn't like my tone. Apparently I'd not spoken with enough obsequious ass-licking deference. The resultant irrational hissy fit and bullying menacing tirade reduced me to losing control of my bowels and after soiling myself along with a lot of incoherent gibbering and cringing I came back to myself, ashamed and shaking.

Always so much fun. Nothing like shitting yourself out of sheer abject fear to make a girl feel pretty.

Good Thing
Financially things are going good. The mess Mick made long before I came onto the scene is almost cleared up. Despite the loss of my dream job we're getting along okay and more than keeping even with our bills and gaining ground on debt.

Cool beans.

See? Not all bad. ~LA

6 Wanna talk about it!

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