(no subject)
I know this is my writing journal, but sometimes, you just gotta have a place to vent and get some crap off your chest. This is my rare occasion of that.
There are certain things in my life I hate doing and one of them is asking for help. I'm not talking about help like in directions or to understand how to do something, I'm talking about monetary help, especially from my parents. Whether anyone knows it or not (mostly not because I'm not one to talk about my problems and misfortunes, it's just belly-aching and it doesn't solve a damned thing), things have been kind of tight financially for me and the dh for a while, but we've made it through and since my fil passed in June, things have pretty much taken a complete nose-dive for us.
I have been busting my ass off day after day for the past two weeks trying to get a job. I get up, shower, get made up, head out and get apps, fill them out, turn them back in, send out resumes, bother the people at the temp agencies and so far....nothing. Not even a call-back at frickin' McDonald's! And they're ALWAYS hiring. So this past Monday, I had to suck it up and ask my parents for some money so we could make our house payment since we haven't gotten our stimulus check yet. Is that sonofagun ever going to come in?! I didn't want to ask them because my parents have this wonderful way of holding things over my head and making me feel guilty about it. Case in point, a while back, I had to have them make a couple of truck payments for me after I was out of work. I had made every other one up to that point and I hated having to do that. So they say they'll make them for me from that point on. I should've known better. Now, my mother tends to make shit up and there are times I'm convinced she's made herself believe some things are true. So after one time of going to their house to get the payment to mail off, she calls me at home that night and is just in hysterics because my dad supposedly called her up from his work and just bitched her out about me, saying all I ever wanted from them was money. I never came to visit unless it was to get money. Of course, that upset me and I spent the rest of the night feeling like shit and just completely useless to anyone. I never mentioned it to my dad because I know how my mom is and whether or not he actually did that is not important, because if I told him about it, it would only cause problems between them.
So it was out of a dire necessity that I had to borrow this money from them. I called and told them they would be paid back as soon as either a) we got our stimulus check or b) I got a job. But no matter what, they would get paid and in the meantime, I'd do whatever they needed to work it off as well. I thought that was a reasonable offer, that way there would be NO GUILT ON ME.
Cut to Wednesday and I'm out doing the job hunt thing and I get home, change clothes, and prepare to start supper for me and the dh. The phone rings and it's my mil on the caller i.d. I'm like "oh no, her 18 year old cat finally died!" (that happened later that night, btw). I answer the phone, expecting it to be Deb and instead, it's my mom! What the deuce?! She was visiting the mil. Now, I'm not quite sure why, but for some reason, nothing good for me ever really comes from those two hanging out together or talking on the phone. My mom tells me to get ready and she and I are going somewhere. I'm like "......okay?" So I get ready, she comes to my house, gets inside and proceeds to tell me what I need to do to clean. Not only that, she starts picking stuff up, going through papers, and telling me this plan she has to come and stay a couple of days and help me get my home clean. Insert a stupefied blank look from me right about now. To get her out of that mindframe--and to leave my stuff alone--I ask her where were we going. To get groceries. I'm all "you drove over 30 miles to get groceries?" Her: No, I came up here to take you to get a few things for you and Shane. I thought I'd help you out a little bit.
I thought that was nice of her and daddy. They've done that once before out of the goodness of their hearts because I have NEVER EVER EVER EVER asked for money or groceries from them or anyone else. If we have it, we have it, if we don't, we don't. So we head to a discount grocery store (I've applied there, not hiring at the moment. Damn them), and I'm a very thrifty shopper, so I get a buttload of groceries for well under $150. It's pouring rain by the time we get back to my house and I tell her to just go inside, sit on the couch and stay out of my way, I have a way of doing things and I appreciate the offer, but I don't need help in putting them away. Of course, she does for about 5 seconds and then proceeds into my kitchen, looks around, and tells me something smells bad. No, it doesn't. I might be a cluttered house keeper, but a dirty/nasty/smellybad one? No. Anyway, she leaves, I hug and thank her and daddy for what they've done, we greatly appreciate it, even though they did not have to do this. She knows, but she wanted to. Keep that in mind for later.
When she gets home, I get the phone call about how (this is where she and my mil have been talking, I know) I need to "teach Shane a lesson" and "Make a believer out of him" by packing a few clothes and going to my parents house to stay for a couple of days. There's no lesson to be taught. The man lost his father not even a month ago, he's still grieving and I'm letting him do as he needs to to get over it. Bitching, threatening, actually leaving, any of that will do more harm than good. People just need to stay out of our marriage, that's what almost caused us to split up once before. I also heard how it was different for my mom, she had to stay with my dad because she had me and she knew she could never work and raise me at the same time. Blah blah blah, it's what I've heard my whole life growing up and there have been times I've honestly wondered if I wouldn't have been better off if they had divorced instead of forcing me to grow up and live in the kind of stressful, walk on eggshells type of situation I did. It wasn't always bad, I'll give them that much. But the times it was? Woooooboy. I've explained to my mom and mil that I just cannot move back with my parents. My mom has said she and daddy would get me a little trailer to live in behind their house if I came back home. I am home. My home is with my husband. I can't even go to stay for a day or two with my parents because I have this irrational fear that's all it'll take to just suck me back in. I love the place where I grew up, it's quiet, out in the country, far from anything really. And at the same time, it's what I absolutely hate about it. It's isolated, desolate. There are times when I go back to visit them, I can feel the positivity and lifeforce being sucked from me the closer I get to it. So no, that's not even an option. I'll live in my old beat up pickup truck before I live with them in that hole again.
Let's skip to my mom looking for a black tri-folder document thingy her mother kept all her important papers in. When my grandmommie passed in March, we had already moved everything out of her apartment and into my house and my parents. My mom was convinced she had put that folder in some of the boxes sent to my house and I needed to look for it. I never did because I knew for a fact I did not have it. I saw it on their back deck the last time I was helping her go through all of that stuff. So why should I waste my time when I know I didn't have it? I shouldn't and I didn't. She calls this afternoon and tells me to stop looking for it, she and daddy found it. "Right where I knew it was." Whatever. And then "But don't tell your daddy I told you. He told me not to tell you we found it." Funny, but the first thought that came to my mind and out of my mouth was "I don't want anything from whatever you find. I don't want or need any money or anything else." She goes on and on about I don't even remember what, but it kept coming back to "Just don't tell your daddy you know we found it." Blah blah blah Yada yada yada some more...guilt trip on me b/c she doesn't have enough money to take the little dogs up to a groomers to have them bathed, she'll have to find a way to do it herself, she doesn't know how she will... In a very flat voice, I tell her "Yeah, you would've had enough money if I hadn't had to ask you for that Monday and you know I only did because I didn't have any other choice, but you will be paid back for it. You know that right?" Her response? "Oh, don't worry about that. I don't have any extra money because of the groceries I bought you the other day." Me: You didn't have to. We had enough to do. (Which was a lie, but hey, you can get very creative with different types of noodles when you have to) Her: Yeah, but I knew before long you'd be hollering for money for food, so I thought I'd just go on and do that then. You and Shane are big people, you need a lot of food.
And people wonder why I'm like I am.
First off, as I told her, we stretch everything as far as we possibly can, down to the point of only having one to two meals a day. And that's fine because when we do, if we have enough, it's a huuuuuuuuuge cooking event that gives us enough to last two or three days. We had spaghetti Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday for more than just dinner or supper. Then, I don't even remember how this came about, but she started in on her mother in law, my granny who passed last August. And it wasn't even anything new! It was the same story I've heard for years about how when I was a newborn, Granny came to visit her and me in the trailer where my parents lived at the time and Granny grabbed me by my ankles and flipped me, because it was supposed to do something to help a newborn's liver. My Granny was a very simple, if albeit a little loony, old country woman who had a lot more sense in her head than people gave her credit for. Yes, that was a crazy thing to do, but it was something she'd obviously heard, done, and believed was true. I'm still alive so it didn't do any harm like it could have. I loved my Granny like I loved my Grandmommie, both in different ways for different reasons. Hell, I even used my Granny and her mother as a model for a character in a fanfic. Everyone loved that character. I know my mom didn't like Granny, or so she says. But really, that was nearly 35 years ago, it's time to let it go and stop bringing that shit up. I finally had to tell her I had to go before I continued to get pissed about the whole grocery thing (silly me for thinking it was no-strings-attached. I forgot who I was dealing with) or start crying about it. It's not worth it, I have enough stress for other things without any extra help from her.
GAAAAAAAAAH!!! She is so the cause of a lot of my headaches, I swear.
Now, I'm hoping for a nice and fun night of rp'ing.
On a different note, I'm actually feeling Rain To Snow once more. I might start writing on it again.
There are certain things in my life I hate doing and one of them is asking for help. I'm not talking about help like in directions or to understand how to do something, I'm talking about monetary help, especially from my parents. Whether anyone knows it or not (mostly not because I'm not one to talk about my problems and misfortunes, it's just belly-aching and it doesn't solve a damned thing), things have been kind of tight financially for me and the dh for a while, but we've made it through and since my fil passed in June, things have pretty much taken a complete nose-dive for us.
I have been busting my ass off day after day for the past two weeks trying to get a job. I get up, shower, get made up, head out and get apps, fill them out, turn them back in, send out resumes, bother the people at the temp agencies and so far....nothing. Not even a call-back at frickin' McDonald's! And they're ALWAYS hiring. So this past Monday, I had to suck it up and ask my parents for some money so we could make our house payment since we haven't gotten our stimulus check yet. Is that sonofagun ever going to come in?! I didn't want to ask them because my parents have this wonderful way of holding things over my head and making me feel guilty about it. Case in point, a while back, I had to have them make a couple of truck payments for me after I was out of work. I had made every other one up to that point and I hated having to do that. So they say they'll make them for me from that point on. I should've known better. Now, my mother tends to make shit up and there are times I'm convinced she's made herself believe some things are true. So after one time of going to their house to get the payment to mail off, she calls me at home that night and is just in hysterics because my dad supposedly called her up from his work and just bitched her out about me, saying all I ever wanted from them was money. I never came to visit unless it was to get money. Of course, that upset me and I spent the rest of the night feeling like shit and just completely useless to anyone. I never mentioned it to my dad because I know how my mom is and whether or not he actually did that is not important, because if I told him about it, it would only cause problems between them.
So it was out of a dire necessity that I had to borrow this money from them. I called and told them they would be paid back as soon as either a) we got our stimulus check or b) I got a job. But no matter what, they would get paid and in the meantime, I'd do whatever they needed to work it off as well. I thought that was a reasonable offer, that way there would be NO GUILT ON ME.
Cut to Wednesday and I'm out doing the job hunt thing and I get home, change clothes, and prepare to start supper for me and the dh. The phone rings and it's my mil on the caller i.d. I'm like "oh no, her 18 year old cat finally died!" (that happened later that night, btw). I answer the phone, expecting it to be Deb and instead, it's my mom! What the deuce?! She was visiting the mil. Now, I'm not quite sure why, but for some reason, nothing good for me ever really comes from those two hanging out together or talking on the phone. My mom tells me to get ready and she and I are going somewhere. I'm like "......okay?" So I get ready, she comes to my house, gets inside and proceeds to tell me what I need to do to clean. Not only that, she starts picking stuff up, going through papers, and telling me this plan she has to come and stay a couple of days and help me get my home clean. Insert a stupefied blank look from me right about now. To get her out of that mindframe--and to leave my stuff alone--I ask her where were we going. To get groceries. I'm all "you drove over 30 miles to get groceries?" Her: No, I came up here to take you to get a few things for you and Shane. I thought I'd help you out a little bit.
I thought that was nice of her and daddy. They've done that once before out of the goodness of their hearts because I have NEVER EVER EVER EVER asked for money or groceries from them or anyone else. If we have it, we have it, if we don't, we don't. So we head to a discount grocery store (I've applied there, not hiring at the moment. Damn them), and I'm a very thrifty shopper, so I get a buttload of groceries for well under $150. It's pouring rain by the time we get back to my house and I tell her to just go inside, sit on the couch and stay out of my way, I have a way of doing things and I appreciate the offer, but I don't need help in putting them away. Of course, she does for about 5 seconds and then proceeds into my kitchen, looks around, and tells me something smells bad. No, it doesn't. I might be a cluttered house keeper, but a dirty/nasty/smellybad one? No. Anyway, she leaves, I hug and thank her and daddy for what they've done, we greatly appreciate it, even though they did not have to do this. She knows, but she wanted to. Keep that in mind for later.
When she gets home, I get the phone call about how (this is where she and my mil have been talking, I know) I need to "teach Shane a lesson" and "Make a believer out of him" by packing a few clothes and going to my parents house to stay for a couple of days. There's no lesson to be taught. The man lost his father not even a month ago, he's still grieving and I'm letting him do as he needs to to get over it. Bitching, threatening, actually leaving, any of that will do more harm than good. People just need to stay out of our marriage, that's what almost caused us to split up once before. I also heard how it was different for my mom, she had to stay with my dad because she had me and she knew she could never work and raise me at the same time. Blah blah blah, it's what I've heard my whole life growing up and there have been times I've honestly wondered if I wouldn't have been better off if they had divorced instead of forcing me to grow up and live in the kind of stressful, walk on eggshells type of situation I did. It wasn't always bad, I'll give them that much. But the times it was? Woooooboy. I've explained to my mom and mil that I just cannot move back with my parents. My mom has said she and daddy would get me a little trailer to live in behind their house if I came back home. I am home. My home is with my husband. I can't even go to stay for a day or two with my parents because I have this irrational fear that's all it'll take to just suck me back in. I love the place where I grew up, it's quiet, out in the country, far from anything really. And at the same time, it's what I absolutely hate about it. It's isolated, desolate. There are times when I go back to visit them, I can feel the positivity and lifeforce being sucked from me the closer I get to it. So no, that's not even an option. I'll live in my old beat up pickup truck before I live with them in that hole again.
Let's skip to my mom looking for a black tri-folder document thingy her mother kept all her important papers in. When my grandmommie passed in March, we had already moved everything out of her apartment and into my house and my parents. My mom was convinced she had put that folder in some of the boxes sent to my house and I needed to look for it. I never did because I knew for a fact I did not have it. I saw it on their back deck the last time I was helping her go through all of that stuff. So why should I waste my time when I know I didn't have it? I shouldn't and I didn't. She calls this afternoon and tells me to stop looking for it, she and daddy found it. "Right where I knew it was." Whatever. And then "But don't tell your daddy I told you. He told me not to tell you we found it." Funny, but the first thought that came to my mind and out of my mouth was "I don't want anything from whatever you find. I don't want or need any money or anything else." She goes on and on about I don't even remember what, but it kept coming back to "Just don't tell your daddy you know we found it." Blah blah blah Yada yada yada some more...guilt trip on me b/c she doesn't have enough money to take the little dogs up to a groomers to have them bathed, she'll have to find a way to do it herself, she doesn't know how she will... In a very flat voice, I tell her "Yeah, you would've had enough money if I hadn't had to ask you for that Monday and you know I only did because I didn't have any other choice, but you will be paid back for it. You know that right?" Her response? "Oh, don't worry about that. I don't have any extra money because of the groceries I bought you the other day." Me: You didn't have to. We had enough to do. (Which was a lie, but hey, you can get very creative with different types of noodles when you have to) Her: Yeah, but I knew before long you'd be hollering for money for food, so I thought I'd just go on and do that then. You and Shane are big people, you need a lot of food.
And people wonder why I'm like I am.
First off, as I told her, we stretch everything as far as we possibly can, down to the point of only having one to two meals a day. And that's fine because when we do, if we have enough, it's a huuuuuuuuuge cooking event that gives us enough to last two or three days. We had spaghetti Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday for more than just dinner or supper. Then, I don't even remember how this came about, but she started in on her mother in law, my granny who passed last August. And it wasn't even anything new! It was the same story I've heard for years about how when I was a newborn, Granny came to visit her and me in the trailer where my parents lived at the time and Granny grabbed me by my ankles and flipped me, because it was supposed to do something to help a newborn's liver. My Granny was a very simple, if albeit a little loony, old country woman who had a lot more sense in her head than people gave her credit for. Yes, that was a crazy thing to do, but it was something she'd obviously heard, done, and believed was true. I'm still alive so it didn't do any harm like it could have. I loved my Granny like I loved my Grandmommie, both in different ways for different reasons. Hell, I even used my Granny and her mother as a model for a character in a fanfic. Everyone loved that character. I know my mom didn't like Granny, or so she says. But really, that was nearly 35 years ago, it's time to let it go and stop bringing that shit up. I finally had to tell her I had to go before I continued to get pissed about the whole grocery thing (silly me for thinking it was no-strings-attached. I forgot who I was dealing with) or start crying about it. It's not worth it, I have enough stress for other things without any extra help from her.
GAAAAAAAAAH!!! She is so the cause of a lot of my headaches, I swear.
Now, I'm hoping for a nice and fun night of rp'ing.
On a different note, I'm actually feeling Rain To Snow once more. I might start writing on it again.