I hate it that I’m sounding like such a complainer, but that’s what blogs are for, right?Because if all I did in real life was complain, I would have zero friends. Because who really wants to hang out with a complainer? And who really wants to hang out with someone who starts sentences with “because” and “and” all the time? Not me.
So, Blog, I know it’s not fair, but I unload on you. And I use a lot of bad grammar when I do it. Don’t take it personally.
Yesterday was rough. I started out at the park having a really good playdate with one of my really good friends. Elijah stayed at home with Daddy, so all I had to do was sit on a bench, chat, and occasionally yell, “You’re being nice, right?”
We came home and Geric left for work and I started thinking, “Hey, when do I go back to work? I haven’t heard anything.” I have worked at an Adult School for the last four years, and at the end of the last couple of years the budget has been so bad that we always leave for the summer not really sure of what our schedule will be the following year. I have moved around to different positions, different locations, and have had my hours cut. It’s always, oh so exciting.
Anyway, I decided to call my friend who’s the counselor and ask her what’s up… because honestly, my principal just makes me feel a little awkward. He’s a perfectly nice man, and if he ever read this I would want him to know he’s a perfectly nice man. Focus in on that, you’re a perfectly nice man, Mr. Principal that shall remain nameless. But socially, he’s slightly on the awkward side.
So, I called my friend and she said that I wasn’t on the schedule this year. What?!?! Honestly, my first thought was, “I jumped through all those hoops to get that STUPID TB test and I didn’t even have to???” But then I got off the phone and I thought about it some more. Why didn’t I even get a phone call letting me know that? Or even an email? School starts next week. They’ve obviously known for awhile that I wasn’t going to be coming back, and no one (especially the principal) had the cajones to pick up the phone and let me know? When I told my mom she said that that would just be common courtesy. I said, no it’s less than that. It’s just decent.
So, I got off the phone and went to get the mail.
First envelope I opened was from Kaiser. It said that even though I don’t have TB and my chest x-ray came back clear I may need to take some antibiotics, so they made me an appointment. Thanks. But no thanks.
Next envelope. From the toll roads. Geric got another ticket because he hasn’t registered his car on our account and I keep the box in the van. Any year now that he’d like to get around to doing that would be awesome.
Next envelope. From IndyMac. Basically said that since we are in foreclosure we have a personal agent to keep in contact with so they can assist us to the best of their abilities. I like to think of him as my personal foreclosure buddy. Like when the man comes to hang the big giant white “Sign of Shame” on my window I’ll run to my foreclosure buddy and buddy up, holding his hand real tight. Because that’s probably all they can do to the best of their ability. The letter went on to say that we have options. We could always APPLY FOR A LOAN MODIFICATION!!!! Are you freaking kidding me? These people seriously are like the left hand not knowing what the right hand is doing. Pure unadulterated incompetence at it’s finest, over there at IndyMac.
The next thing I saw was this magazine from Loma Linda.
And you know what? At this point I was so pissed that I felt like these three women were just taunting me. The blonde in the middle, she’s the worst. Her giant toothy laugh is just too much. It’s almost like she smelled something stanky. It’s like she’s looking at me and saying, “You got yours, Erin. Oh yes, you got yours.” Then throwing her head back in an ugly cackle. I want to punch her right in the nose. I want her to take her magazine and shove it. Her magazine about women’s health that includes an article on bad hair care. That’s not even a women’s health issue, genius. She pisses me off.
It was right about then that I realized I had lost it.
So, I loaded the boys in the van and went to the grocery store.
And I bought two gallons of ice cream.
Deep breath in…