19 January 2012


After taking a long hiatus from blogging and writing, I was recently inspired to write after reading A Walk In The Snark. Why was I inspired? Well, read the damn book and you'll find out. Also, realizing that I had a lot to share had a little to do with it. Just a little.

Let me take you back to November of 2008. I had an awesome apartment, a cool, well paying job, and life was pretty decent. Okay, so the job was pretty annoying. Actually it was the people I worked with who were annoying, the job part was actually not bad. I had gotten in trouble a few times regarding my attitude, well, because I don't like being treated like I'm not good enough, or like I'm a dumb ass.

One afternoon, after work, I was getting in my car to go to a physical therapy appointment (I have major back problems; long story) only I couldn't go anywhere. See, the parking situation at work was completely jacked. We had to park around the back of the building like we were all waiting in line at a drive thru. First one in is the first to leave, and so on and so forth. Since I was one of the last to arrive, I was near the back of the line of cars. There were two cars parked behind me and I was in a bit of a hurry to get the hell out of there. Myself and another lady were trying to back out of the cluster fuck of this parking sitch, only one car was preventing us. I got on my cell and called the after hours number so I could get in touch with the girl and have her move her car. Long story short, I hurt someone's feelings during that phone call and was sacked the following day.

Normally, being fired is no biggie for me. I usually find a job pretty quickly and move on with life. Only this time, the economy was in the shitter and there were no jobs to be found. The jobs that WERE there, were being fought for by hundreds of applicants. For the next 3 months, my job became looking for a job. In the beginning I was a little selective about what jobs I applied for. After a month of interviews and zero jobs, I started applying for every job I found. Still nothing. I couldn't even get a call back from McDonald's! How embarrassing!

It didn't take long for my money to disappear. Rent, bills, fuel for my car, oh and food, my checking account was as empty as my tummy. I finally broke down and realized I couldn't do this any more. I wasn't going to find a job, and I didn't have enough money to pay for another month of rent or bills.

That's when I did it. I broke down and called my dad. I told him what happened and that I needed to come home. Please understand, this was the absolute last thing in the world I ever wanted to do. I'm sure some of you understand, and other's are probably thinking, "Big deal. Living with your parent's isn't all that bad. At least you'll have a place to stay!" Yeah. To those of you who think that, you have never met my father. And once you did, you'd eat those words. You would eat those words and like it!

Don't get me wrong, I love my dad. He had a hard job of raising me on his own and worked really hard his whole life trying to keep the bills paid and clothes on my back. We just have a toxic kind of relationship. Have you ever seen what Sulfuric acid does to, well, anything? He's the sulfuric acid in this analogy. He gets in my mind and breaks me down, eating to the core of my soul until nothing can comfort me, except a pitcher of margaritas.

After telling him my situation, he agreed to let me move back and began to take control of my life. A big snow/ice storm was headed toward us and he wanted me moved out of the apartment before that hit. The only problem was my lack of funds. I wouldn't have enough money to move until a week after he wanted me to move. Alas, my ideas didn't mean shit anymore, and this was something I needed to get used to.

Moving was the worst experience imaginable. How bad was it? Imagine all the catty Real Housewives in one room, all yelling at you, but they are in the form of one man, my dad. Oh my GOD! What have I done?!?

#despairdespair #someonekillmenow

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