debutaunt.com

I'm Debbitchy

I am a horrible person to live with.

I'm very depressed now. No, make that severely depressed.

[aside]But Happy Birthday, Snert. Was great talking with you. I really do hope you and Snit come to visit me. [aside over]

I am really picky about the way I live.

If I could clean up right now I would. But I fucking can't. I've had a load of towels in the dryer since Friday. I can fold them, I like to fold them, but can't get them out of the dryer or put them away. I had to re-wash my robe and part of the load that was in the washer because it's been there since Friday as well. (my housekeeper was here forever, but just wasn't able to finish all the laundry - now there is a shitload more to do)

There is some stinky funky trash in the can that I can't fucking pick up. There are dishes in my sink. I think they jump into the dishwasher ... isn't that how it works? I left one pan on the stove dirty from breakfast. Guess I will be the one to have to wash it.

Our bed is all unmade. My computer, the radio and the air conditioning was left on all day. This after I paid the biggest electric bill I've had in three years. I need to buy groceries, but can't afford to (just spent another $70 on meds) and I can't stand up long enough to do so. What little food I do have, I don't have the energy to cook it. I'm sitting on a heating pad right now as my back is throbbing.

All I want to do is bitch right now. I'm so aggrevated.

This is why I like living alone. Because if I make a mess, it's my mess. And I never leave a mess for long. If someone else makes a mess (Chef, Zoe) it's still my mess? Fuck this shit. Fuck this.

I can't do it with this asshole back of mine. I normally wouldn't mind (ok, I'd mind a little) but at least before I could just do it. In the time it took me to type this, I'd have all that shit done. Because I'm Deb_u_Multi-task like that.

Because I'm a single mom and I have no choice BUT to clean the shit up or live in a hell hole.

But is it fair to bitch? I don't know.

I'm tired of bitching because it obviously doesn't work at all. I tried asking. I tried a note. Forget it. Fucking forget it because I'm gonna end up in a body cast since I can't live with this, but will fuck up my back even worse trying to clean all this crap up.

I hate to live in a pigsty. I didn't grow up in one. It's nasty. Funky. Zoe deserves to live in a clean home. I don't want her to get used to this way of living. I can't afford to have my housekeeper come out more than once a week, and even then I can't afford that. I paid her an extra $20 that I didn't have just to help with the laundry.

I want to go to the gym. I want to work out. My mind is fucking me up. My back is killing me. I feel like my body is betraying me.

I've spent like $500 or more on meds, doctor visits and that stupid fucking MRI. I thought I was gonna have a bit extra this month as it was one of those months where I got paid three times instead of two. It's nearly all gone. I think it might even be more than gone. I want to cash out one of my 401Ks, but the penalty would make it so not worth it.

And work? Oh My God. Work was so horrible. I can't figure out how to sit comfortably. At one point I had to go into the workroom and hide out and lay on the floor. The vicodan didn't do a damn thing except make me want to get out of there. Or make me want to cry. Ok, so I did cry, but then again, I'm sure you all knew that.

I hate my back. I fucking hate it right now.

And obviously, it hates me too.

I am going to go take a steaming hot bath.

After I order dinner and wash that nasty fucking pan.

Please put me on ignore right now.

Goddamnit this back thing is going to turn me into Deb_u_Bitch.

Whoops, too late!

He's gonna leave me because I'm a nag from hell right now. I wouldn't blame him if he wanted to. I'm sure that thought has crossed his mind at least more than once. No wonder he wants to fill up on Scotch.

And he says my eggs taste like dog crap.

I'm not worth two shits right now.

I even want to leave me.

Posted by debutaunt at June 21, 2004 07:17 PM | TrackBack