Breaking and Entering 101
I know I've been lax about updating again (Big Surprise!), but I figured I would do a quick rehash of everything I've been up to since -- HOLY CRAP -- before Christmas.
I can't even blame it on my damn head cold because that's a recent (albeit horrible) development. Please note, I am looking for sympathy and chicken noodle soup. In lieu of those I will accept lavish bouquets of flowers or trips to a tropical locale. Your choice.
On to business:
I had a pretty low-key holiday. Dad got a call a few days before Christmas that both the mine that he works at and the other one in the area (owned by same company) were overproducing, so they were giving most employees time off during Christmas.
To the tune of 2 weeks.
While not excited about the prospect of 2 weeks off work unpaid, it definitely beat our original plan of having Christmas as a family on the 23rd. I don't even need to explain how lame that would have been, and I was not excited about spending all day Christmas at home with just mom, since I'm well aware that Garhett would be off spending the day sledding if given the chance. I had the offer to spend Christmas Day with Mr. V and his family, and although I appreciated it, felt like I would be too much of an imposition. That's all moot, however, since it all worked out and we spent the day as a foursome (Trin spent it down South with Robyn's family) and after all the presents were unwrapped, turkey was served, games were played and mass amounts of creamy liqueurs were consumed, Mr. V drove out to get me so we could spend Christmas Day night together.
I had made a bargain with mom that I would work for her during her recovery until January (the doctor advised she take 6-10 weeks off) and then I was going to do my own thing (originally was planned to be my degree, but for reasons I can't entirely get into now, is no longer. Soon, though.) , and so on my last day of working for her, the day before New Years, I excitedly backed out of the driveway to head to work, and backed right into her brand new fucking truck. Shit.
Well, suffice it to say that those closest to me know what's been going on for the past few months,and if there was finally a valid reason for her to be angry with me, this was it. So I left, and have been crashing (with the cat) at Mr. V's house until I can find a place within my budget. I'm hoping February brings good fortune in that respect. Thank God for his understanding nature, since I completely feel like I'm intruding on his newly claimed space.
We went back there last week to get a few things when I knew she'd be out at work, and therefore not around to start a bunch of drama, and the next day I received a nasty email from her accusing me of sneaking around like a thief. To get my own things!
Since I know this has less to do with her being upset I came there when they weren't there (which honestly, she has no reason to be, since I didn't do anything other than pack up some things I knew I would need), and more upset at the fact that she was literally powerless to do or say anything about it, I'm choosing to ignore, since the doctor has been noticing some irregular things about my health, and attributes most of them to an increasingly alarming stress level.
In any case, now that almost a week has passed since the email, I find it more humorous and less stressful. After talking to a few people about the situation, I'm finally drawing the conclusion that the behavior isn't normal, and am finally beginning to feel comfortable and happy in my skin again.
I watched a movie called "Americano" a few weeks ago, that I wouldn't recommend except for the fact that it is a backpacking movie based in Spain (indisputably one of my favorite countries on earth). The point is that in one scene, one of the characters is speaking to the Spanish girl the group befriends, and she has a short monologue about Crazymakers, meaning the people who just have the innate ability to drive you absolutely crazy. I found a website that describes it fairly well and can be located here. My mom has always been this for me. She's always known exactly what to say to put me over the edge, to make me doubt myself or my situation in life, and the only way I can foresee getting through my life is to ignore her for the most part. That's as much of a plan as I've formulated thus far. Well, that and fixing the dent in her goddamn truck of course. But I'm happy that I've put into motion the steps needed to distance myself from her and the situation, however hastily they were put together.
Other than that, I'm boring as usual. I wish I had some source of inspiration to draw on and I could at least write some stories for freelance work, but am afraid no will want to read my stories about the stain fighting goodness of Gain laundry detergent or how to get you (formerly well trained) cat to stay off the counters after not having counters for close to a year.
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