Bitchin & Gripin' on November 7th, 2016

Sometimes I can be such an ass, an idiot, a fool, and a complete screw-up. Even I can't believe what I have been gearing up for this last enire week. Bud died on May 7, 2002. He was born on November 5,1938. Stupid ass here got my dates all messed up. All day today I have wantd to cry and could not fihure out why. Then, just a little while ago I saw that today is November 7th, so I got all upset and figured that today was his "Angel Day" and that's the reason why I wanted to cry all day. Then, I sat down here at the computer and realized what I had dome. WHAT A PUTZS I AM!!! I mean, who does this? He's only been gne a little over 13 years.I shouldn't have the dates all messed up in my head already, should I? Come on. I refuse to believe that I am following n Cheryl's footsteps with the dementia. But then, of corse, that's another thing that has me wanting to cry constantly.

Maybe I'm jut nuts. Maybe Lynn is right and it's not only her that I "suck the life out of." And Lynn. That's a whole other blog post all on it's own. Who treats someone like they are the most wonderful person in the world, does aqnytthing and everything tey can do for them, tellssthem that they have more money than they can spend in a lifetime,  won't let them spend a dime, tells them theyneed tovent and they wan t be thast petsonventd to and then in a cold, out of theblue fucking email, kicks them to the curb and tells them not to attempt to even contact that peson again? Who "loves" like that? But then I get told that shehad no choice, that her husband "MADE" her do it that way, but not to even hint that he was the controllng factor behind that move. So while I am at her house, after sendding tthem on a date while I work my ass off unpacking her boxes, I am getting raked ovr thecoals and told it's either him or me. Then makes this grand gesture of sending me home on one ,eg of th jurney in first class, so he will look like a hero. What a dirty, roten jerk. Then I learn that he has been gone for 3 weeks and I don't even get a friggin text n my birthday and to ask how I am and to addinsult to injury, after Iaskedhow she was, she tells me she is so much better since I am out of her life. Well great. I hope she has a wonderful rest of her life and quite honestly, I hope she spends e very ay of it alone and lonely. I wanther to know what my last 14 years have been like. But one thing she will never know is where she s ging to lay her head at night, or having to live constanyly in filth with not a damn thing she can do about it. Right now I am hating her more than I ever thought was possible AND I want her to know it. I want her to experience every bit of hurt and confussion that I have. And I so want tto tell Brod Hale what I think of him. But it would not be worth my time or energy to give such a controlling, uncaring piece of shit that he is.

I want this apt so badly I can't hardly stand to wait. And I am just terrified that something is going to happen and I am not going to have enough money. It's jus the not knowing when thst is driving me nuts. I feel like I have been miserable for nearly 14 fucking years and I am no only sick and tired of it, I am wondering if it's ever ging to end. When I was around 8 years old I sat outside on the curb and asked God why He haed me so much. I feel like I am needing to do hst sgain. Talk about feeling sorry for yourself huh? I got that one in spades.

So this ends this awesome blog post. Read it or ignore it. I don't even care anymore, at this point.