Wednesday, September 22, 2010

I blame the Tea Baggers

The night was brief, awakened by a screeching voice that would have rivaled the death throes of an animal before it is dragged down by a cheetah or alligator. “I can’t breathe, I need an inhaler” “ I can’t go to the hospital, they won’t do anything, I have a refill, should I call wallgreens?” I was in deep sleep, the DA shakes me, hit me are, repeats the screeching, I vaguely nod my head, she runs off to make the call and I strain to hear if she is calling a pharmacy, or someone with whom she has made a deal crack for the inhaler. Good Stuff Bingo !
More shrieking, arm punching, I flinch and the DA almost falls off the bed, I laugh, she yells, enter logic “Hey baby, you saw me go to bed early” & I was thinking to myself “watch the 7 yr old logic come out”
“it’s an emergency, I can’t breathe” thus it is so
I didn’t take it seriously because, well if you smoke crack or 3 packs of cigarettes a day, your lungs are bound to take issue with your body. But I don’t carry money anymore and my credit limit is at its very thinnest and she continued to scream, 3:30 we make it to the drug store, the strip club next door long abandoned. She basically told me to get the hell out of her house, recanted later, but the writing is on the wall
I try to sleep and she continues to bitch until she finds the printout of yesterdays musings, she cries, she self emulates, I never quite go to sleep and I try to brush the cat, who long ago abandoned me, I feed the gosh darn thing and he cries to me every time I move, she raised him first, and it is funny, if the DA had stayed out of Jail, when Kitty got evicted he could have moved in with her until I found a place, I’d miss him, but I need to take care of myself, btw I am 11% less a fat men, more time with the kitty, clean my room, clean my gear, yardwork, (but its raining, do it later) yawn, 2 more hrs at work, and the paperwork never ceases, but my interest does
F’ing tea baggers

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

random thoughts before I see the da

I am so very tired, I feel as though my soul is letting go, my mind is playing tricks on me, or you are taking advantage of me other than what you say you are. I have been noticing a few $$ missing from my pants lately, some kolonpin missing from the wallet, the silver ring rosary missing from the ID badge, items of food from the fridge that I think are worthless. I don’t sleep well because you force me to take you on rides and wait while you complete your deal , I feel worthless and I come to a job I don’t like, where some people test me , test my temper. I wonder what will be missing, how many times will you say its your last ride, or that someone will shoot up the house, me driving poisoned or intoxicated to get you a 20.00 because you owe someone $$4 but right afterwards you are in your room smoking away and you journey outside sans me to get more $$, you must think I am so stupid and you such a great actress that you can sell the idea to me, kicking holes in the door should get you an award for acting, my head hurts, the bell continues to go off and people want service, not only service they want me or our team to cover their mistakes so they can walk away secure in the belief they have passed the torch, but I believe you owe me more than I get, I shouldn’t be broke, it isn’t the smokes or hooch, or that I eat out, it may be I pay for both of us but you need help all the time, and I am grateful for the extra space, but I can’t be alone in my room, my frigging room man, I close the door and you kick it like starsky and hutch you say you are afraid I am dead so you check and I wonder if you are Dawn of the dead and like fresh brains, why am I stressed , is it work, it is home, is it my impending doom, is my brain decaying away like my liver or kidneys, I don’t feel desperate but I have anxiety every time you are near because I wonder what you want or why you demand ride with no warning despite you know how much I detest it you bitch at me because you insist on telling me how to drive when it make no matter yyou should be grateful you don’t have to walk the distance or when you force me to drive to copper and Wyoming despite I have fear I will die on that street corner, and you insist on making me go there, please don’t do that anymore, I have to same my soul and my humanity and I must find other ways to occupy my existence other than smoke cigarettes TV and wait in fear of you needing a ride, to free yourself you must face your demons alone I must do the same be what you are not what you think you are

Thursday, September 16, 2010

So who is the cannonball and who is the wall?

The weirdest thing about being involved with a drug addict, is all the grief and emotional toll you allow your self to be subject to, if you have money you can keep an arms length as long as you can afford it or until the other members of the family seeing their inheritance go away, find some maneuvering to get the purse strings cut. My DA probably cost her family in medical bills about 1,000,000. In drug assistance about 60.00 a day for 4-5 years recently and probably 10 times that in the preceding years. What is troubling (to me anyway) is that she would panhandle 2-3x that by dressing up and inventing stories to get people to give twenties and a few times a fifty. I think there is some guilt there maybe because they know she is a drug addict and they probably have a close relative that got cut off.

The DA got cut off in June when her father moved to Florida to get away since he could not bring himself to say no, she still gets 200.00 a week plus food stamps, but it barely lasts a day

Just got a call that the DA is freaking out and needs her Friday 10.00 today (more about that later) it then became 20.00 and the DA is loosing her minds and is going to free the cat (like she is the loony chick in breakfast at tiffany’s) and needs me there with twenty bucks and she can’t catch the cat