Even as I was posting my Sunday memes I remembered what I had been going to blog about.
But I already forgot it.
So I'll go through the events of the past few days & maybe I'll remember.
No, I don't have hot water yet. They're here AGAIN replacing the brand new water heater that doesn't heat up the water. I hope this one works. I wish they'd just left my old water heater at this point. Sure, we could only take 5 minute showers, but at least they were HOT showers. *sigh*
The landlord told me that all this remodeling would take about 3 days. That's for the brand new kitchen, the brand new toilet & potential new bathroom floor. But it's already been 3 days just for them working on the water heater.
Now? I'm thinking the fuckers will still be here the day before Christmas and come right back the day after.
And I'm afraid that all the "NEW" shit I'm getting will just mean that I'll be calling the landlord every day to report something else they fucked up.
My feet are swollen.
The left one is worse than the right, although it's hard to tell from the pictures. I told Evan that they look like they belong on a 600 lb person they're so fat. I slept with them up on the wall (Elevation. See? I'm thinking.) I want to soak them in Epsom Salt. But that would require me heating up water since I don't have any fucking hot water. When it rains, it pours...
I think the reason they are swollen is because when I went to Wal-Mart on Thursday, they didn't have any electric carts. So I had to use the basket as a walker to get around the store. The good thing about them not having carts is that I don't spend as much money because I don't look around. I just get what I came for & leave. The bad things are, apparently, that my feet swell (it HURTS) and I inevitably forget something or refuse to get it even though I have a list because it's too far away.
This is why I normally go to Wal-mart late or super early. They always have carts at those times.
My mother uses one of those CPAP (I don't know how to spell it) machines. Ever since she's gotten it, she's had trouble with the mask. It was always too big.
We went to her house Friday and she showed me her mask
She - See? It digs into my eyes but when I move it down all the air rushes out of the bottom. It's supposed to fit.
I tried it on. It fit perfectly.
Me - Oh, I never realized that you had such a tiny baby head.
Evan - She has a headlette. (He calls her toes toelettes because they're so short & tiny)
Her - No, I just don't have a big head like YOU.
Me - Big head, Big Brain. Tiny head -
Her - All right, now.
It was funny. I knew she had a small mouth. She always talks about how the dentist asks her to open her mouth as wide as she can and it's still tiny.
We had gone over there because she had cooked for Evan. Not me. She wasn't even expecting me to be there. Anyway, she made meatloaf and the ever present mac & cheese.
So after we ate and I was leaving, she said "Oh! Did you take the bread off the bottom of the meatloaf? I put it there to soak up all the grease but I forgot to tell you."
Me - That must have been the couple of moist bites that I got! I thought that the meatloaf was a tad dry, but then I'd get a moist bite so I figured it was just me...
She found it highly amusing that she fed me sawdust.
It's always odd to me when I'm around Mommy Dearest and have a good time.
She - Your brother asked me the other day if your father and I ever fought. I told him that we did, but since we lived in an apartment when we first got married I learned how to argue without getting loud because I didn't think everybody needed to know our business.
Me - There was one time when I woke up early in the morning and heard you & dad having a "discussion". I don't think you knew about it, though.
Evan - Discussion?
Me - She didn't call them arguments, she called them "Discussions".
Some story came on the news about some other fucked up family.
She - See? Aren't you glad that you didn't grow up like that?
Me - Like what?
She - With parents who fought all the time.
Me - Well you two barely spoke so I don't see how you could fight...
She - Well we never physically fought, no one was an alcoholic or a drug addict, we paid our bills, we never abused you.
Me - Right...
This is the same woman who refused to let me see a psychiatrist when I was a teenager because she was too worried that the neighbors would think she had a crazy daughter. The same woman who refused to take me to the ER when, on one of several occasions, I took all the pills in the house to try & kill myself. The same woman who beat me with a broom because she didn't like the way I held it.
But Evan was there.
So I kept my peace.
It's amazing to me how she rewrites history.
I will be missing Evan's very first band performance. :-(
I wish I could describe to you just how bad my feet hurt. No, I'm not going to the doctor because the son of a bitch never does anything for swelling. Migraines? He'll hook me up. Swelling? He'll just tell me to lay off the salt & I'll tell him to kiss my ass.
I'm not wasting money on that.
Plus none of my shoes fit. And I'm NOT going out in public with slippers on. I am not that "country" yet. (I hope I never will be that country, LOL.)
I really didn't want to go & hear a bunch of 6th graders anyway, but I wish I could be there to support Evan.
I'm sure it felt good to me to have The Narcissist (AKA Mommy Dearest) there to hear my band performances. My dad never came. He only came to my softball games. But he DID buy me the clarinet, the keyboard & the guitar that allowed me to practice my musical "skills", so I never complained.
Anyway, I feel like I should go to every function he has while I can. Because there may come a day when I really can't leave the house without an entire production.
When I get to Hell, I'm going to fuck up whichever demon came up with this brilliant disease.
Listening to: Kanye West - Stronger
Listening to: Janet Jackson - Go Deep (Timbaland Remix)
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