We'll all be lucky if he sees 14


Again I sit alone, lonely and sad. Alone because the boyfriend decided not to come over after all tonight. I told him earlier he was off the hook if he wasn't feeling well, but that was before the sad part. Lonely 'cause I've got no money to go anywhere, and all I'm doing is biting the kids faces off because of the sad part. Sad...because my son is 13. He's likely bipolar...everyone I know who's read The Explosive Child and has one of their own has told me to read it and learn. I'm afraid to, actually. I get the call last night telling me to tell Gram to stop yelling at him. Turns out she was yelling because he made his own little sparkler setup and was trying to light it. With matches. In the neighbor's yard. Sigh.....when I confronted him with it tonight and grounded him, the screaming started. And not from me. I just continued to make my little WW friendly fat free cheese and whole wheat pita pizzas. And I did not rise to the occasion as he raised his voice, or refused to go to his room. Finally he calmed, and got the fuck out of my face. This is good, because I have no idea how much longer I could have lasted. Probably three seconds, give or take two. And sad because even though I'm broke, apparently I make too much to be eligible for a Pell grant. I want to finish my degree. I want to finish something in this fucking life.

The boyfriend. I do love him, and I know he loves me. So what's the problem? Tonight I didn't want to be alone....like I didn't want to be alone the last time...and the time before that...but I am. Well, thank God for the laptop. I'm sitting here indian-style (remember when they called it that? Wonder what Imus would say today...heh) anyway....me and one of the cats, smoking butts, drinking a Limon and diet, and listening to XM 70's music through the tv. Wow.No wonder I'm frigging depressed.....lol. Oh, and the dulcet tones of my girl torturing the cat from downstairs.

He just doesn't think. Not very sensitive. I'm tired of being the tough one who can handle things. I'm tired of only being wanted when I'm wanted...and never needed. He likes alone time when he's down. I really don't. And I like to be heard. And considered. I didn't need him to be here all night, but an hour or two would have let me know he heard. :(

It's been awhile.....


Jethro and I are still a thing. I love him, he loves me....things are things. He just had neck surgery...scared me half to death. He's on the mend though, and I look forward to him being...ah...fully recovered and off of the painkillers. We bought a Harley that neither of us can afford. I started smoking again. I was in a car accident that fucked my back up further and forced me to get rid of the minivan. 22 year old bitch driving the other car had NO insurance. Driving a 2002 car, with auto insurance cancelled for non-payment. At least I sleep better at night knowing that the dumbass will never again see a car loan. It's not much, but it's something....

I'm broke. Really, really, like rent was 10 days late and cell bill is something I'm going to have to zig and zag on. My roots are showing and my hair looks like hell. Most of my clothes are stained or ripped in one way or another. And my chiropractor and another of his patients treated me to a conversation about buying vacation homes and a 2.2 mil fully furnished manse that the other guy on the heating pad has to sell. Go into the kitchen here at work and the discussion is all about college....I can't afford that...somewhat thankful that my son is a bit of an ...ahem...underachiever. Trade school....that's the route for him. So. I've been on the verge of tears, if not actively crying, for a couple of days now.

I'm rambling....the Bailey's in my desk drawer is seeming like not the worst idea ever. We do have coffee in the kitchen.