Somethin' Goin' Wrong Around Here

Weirdness is happening around me. I don't think I, personally, am the curse factor, but y'all must admit that it's usually ME having the crisis.

Or perhaps it's just that I now have the perspective--and the antidepressants--so that I realize these things are NOT my crises.

What are these crises, you ask?

Well, first of all my cousin died. Don't worry, he wasn't one of the important ones. This sent my mom into crisis mode. She couldn't (or chose not to) make it to the funeral, and none of us actually knew when it was, anyway. So I was all prepared to be long-distance support for her, but meanwhile she had decided to ask my sister to go the funeral to "represent the family."

Oh, fuck THAT. You should never go to a funeral when you have to explain to the mourners who the hell you are, which my sister would have had to do. (The mother of the deceased suffers from Alzheimer's, we've barely met the guy's wife, and the last time I saw his kids, they both deserved spankings.)

Mom's idea was twice as fucked as usual because my sister is about to be homeless, by no fault of her own. The house she's renting, the owners are being foreclosed on and so she and DuffMan and Portia have to vacate a couple of days before Christmas.

And then on the other side, my Former Indentured Servant's car broke down. This is the car we gave him, that was stolen a couple of months ago. Why is this OUR problem? I wish YOU would fucking tell ME.

[These disparaging remarks were deleted because...well, just because.]

You see, we put all his options in front of him: where he could have the car towed, where he could get it fixed, what might or might not be the actual problem with the car, what costs were involved, and if all else failed, there was always the option of his calling a junk yard and having them tow it away and giving him $25.

He rejected all these options because the only acceptable options to him were: 1) that he still have a car to drive and 2) that it not cost him anything because he's broke.

I won't tell you how this panned out. It's still pissing me off. The voice inside my head is going to have a LOT to say on Thanksgiving, but perhaps if I give it a lot of beer it will shut up.

So now I'm going on a cleaning frenzy (today), followed by a grocery shopping and food prep frenzy (tomorrow), followed by a cooking frenzy (Thursday). I won't even feel like eating all the crap I cooked.

I might, if the Jesus of Cheese's family didn't eat so damn fast.

But that's another bitch session.