Another Bad Day

Today was supposed to be a good day.  We planned on going to the beach and taking a day off from unpacking and trying to find a place for everything. I’m used to the white sand of the Florida beaches. This shit is brown and hot! Hot, hot, hot! I think I might have 1st degree burns on the bottoms of my feet! But that wasn’t what made it a bad day.

On my way up to the beach I called the school to see what all I would need to register Rock Star. Now, I was patting myself on the back for this because I’m the type of person that usually goes in person.  I know it’s quicker to call but I continue to show up and hope for the best. Anyway, the first question asked was where we lived and if we were in that particular district.

OK, several years ago our school district decided to make the different high schools have a different focus. One focuses on the arts, another on STEM, another has the IB program, and another one focuses on medical programs. In other words, students no longer necessarily go to the high school in their neighborhood if another school more accurately reflects what they wish to do after graduation. The state also has implemented school choice so supposedly you should to be able to go to any school you want so long as you can get your student there. I already know this is a lie because my first choice for both kids is only taking kids in that district.

Today as I call to see about registering my daughter I’m told I am not within the school boundaries so I need to fill out an open enrollment form downtown, and oh yeah, they are at capacity. So… she’s probably not going to go to the school I thought she would be going to and instead she will be going to the neighborhood high school which focuses on the arts and which she has no interest in. It’s also smaller and has horrible testing scores. Hooray! I’m so glad her dad is happy off fucking his whore while I deal with this shit. Are you happy, Cousinfucker, because your kids sure as hell aren’t! In the end I guess you got what you really wanted which was to make me miserable. So again, hip hip fucking hooray!

Then while we’re at the beach my sister-in-law calls me to tell me she has a possible job for me where she works.  I was hoping that I could work as a secretary where she does. I wasn’t looking forward to working every other weekend or holidays but they work 12 hour days and 3 days a week is considered full time. There is also overtime available. Even so, working 4 days a week wasn’t going to give me very much left over. I figured I’d have about $600 left over after paying my bills. Again, a big fucking hip hip hooray. This position is in a different area. I would be working 5 days a work. 7-3:30. Every third weekend. I have no idea if overtime is even available and if it is I don’t know if I could just work over on a few of the days I work, or if I would have to work a sixth day. Obviously, I would much prefer to work 48 hours a week in four days as opposed to 48 hours over 6 days. I feel like my kids are going to end up raising themselves. Sorry, kids, I can’t make you breakfast.  Sorry, kids, I can’t take you to school. Sorry, kids, I can’t run anything up to you if you forget it.  Sucks to be you.  Maybe ask your dad for help.  Oh wait!  You can’t do that because he’s moved out of the fucking state. He’s off playing Daddy of the Year to four kids that don’t belong to him so he’s a little too busy to help you out.

The best part about the job, however, is the awesome pay. Eleven whole dollars an hour! No, scratch that.  $11.01. And I can get a 33 cent raise in a year! Isn’t that awesome? I’m making a full dollar more per hour than my 19 year old niece and my 16 year old daughter. I am so glad I wasted four years of my life getting a college degree so I could work a job that will barely pay my bills.

I’m not sure why I’m so upset. I knew how much the job paid. I guess I figured if I had to work four days a week for peanuts that wouldn’t be so bad; I at least had a minimum of three days off per week. But now I’m looking at working five days a week for peanuts. Where do I find the time to fit in another job so that I can, you know, buy my kids clothing, food, yearbooks, school supplies, and all that other fun stuff?  If I’m working seven days a week their father may as well have custody of them. Not that he wants them, of course. And they definitely don’t want him. I didn’t have children so that I could never see them. The way things are looking I’m going to spend the rest of my life working, never spending a moment with them because I don’t get paid enough to ever take a fucking break.

Everyone says I can work my way up but work my way up from what? I’m not going to morph into a fucking neurosurgeon! I can’t do billing without an accounting degree. I’m not going to move into nursing without going back to school and honestly, I don’t want to be a nurse. It’s a great profession and the money is good, but I have no desire to be one. None. Plus there’s that little matter of not having any money to go back to school for a different degree. It just doesn’t seem like there is any way to move up. Next year I’ll be making a big whooping $11.33, and the year after that a little more than $11.66, and after three years I’ll be up over $12! That is really going to help my kids.

My daughter begins her senior year next year. Cousinfucker has fucked me over by leaving his job of 15 years and leaving behind tens of thousands of dollars in restricted stock behind. I have no idea how I’m going to pay for senior pictures, or senior announcements.  At one point, that point before my husband decided to go fuck his cousin, abandon us, and quit 2 jobs in 4 months, my daughter was going to have an amazing graduation party. I was planning on taking her to Hawaii or wherever else she might want to go for a gift. Now, there will be no gift. Period.  I won’t have it. I can’t afford to throw her a party; I don’t even think I’m going to be able to afford to take her out to dinner afterwards.  If she’s lucky she might get to pick something that isn’t on the Dollar Menu from McDonald’s for her big graduation dinner.  Even making my huge $11.33/hour after my annual raise I can’t afford anything after I’ve paid the bills and bought food. Hell, for all I know I’ll be working on her graduation day. Picasso graduates three years later so maybe by that time I’ll be able to take him to Chili’s or something like that. Probably not, though.

I hate my fucking life. I seriously do. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. It’s never going to get better.  Every time I start to become a little more positive something happens that knocks me down. I give up. I’ll just live in misery from here on out. I think that’s what Cousinfucker has wanted all along. He wanted me to be as miserable as he was but I kept looking on the bright side, kept trying to see the positive in everything. He moved me across the country and made me completely dependent upon him after I left everything behind for him. I left friends. I left social activities. I left volunteering opportunities. Now he has taken everything from me- my marriage, my financial security, my lifestyle, my independence, my retirement, my furniture, most of my possessions, my home, my future. Since his perfect little future with the whore and working alongside Blockhead didn’t work out for him I don’t think he’ll be satisfied until I’m dead.

3 thoughts on “Another Bad Day

  1. This is tough to read. I can feel your pain and frustration flooding through. Platitudes aren’t gonna cut it this time. Just saying “hang in there” is going to sound cruel. The best thing I can tell you is that for now, go into your kids’ rooms, kiss them if they are sleeping (or just embarrass them if they are awake), carry that feeling back in your room, and breathe a deep breath. You’re a year away from graduations, and all of that. Let it come when it does. Tonight, let your kids know you love them.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Frankly, it IS shitty. But you will keep on for your children. My brother, and his young children, woke up one day and watched his wife, their mother, pack her bags and abandon them. Gone. Never came back. Those kids today are thriving. They went through hell for a while but they had their rock steady dad at their backs. Any body that leaves their children deserve a special place in hell. Your husband is on the train taking him there. I don’t care if he is “a poor widdle ting” he is a father first last and always. I hope it helps that there are people out here caring about you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I hope I don’t sound like too much of a whiny baby. I’m one of those people that I need to immerse myself in the suckiness before I can emerge and face everything head on. And like I said, I start to feel a little more positive and then something else comes along and knocks me down. But, I get back up eventually. I just like to bitch and complain about it for a little while first.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s