Next time she calls, tell her you were napping and that she woke you up.
(Too mean?)
It doesn’t always get easy when they die. The third anniversary of my mom’s death was last week and I felt such sadness. She didn’t really grow up until about five years before she died. So we finally managed frienship and even love of a sort and it then it was gone all too quickly. So I morn for the mother I never really had as a child and for the passing of the one she finally became. It also doesn’t make life any easier when my dad tries to pretend she was a saint rather than a deeply flawed woman at best.
I was coming in to complain about the mess the plumber left and now the other side of the sink U pipe leaks. But damn, sorry about aging parent issues for everyone. I’m waiting for the shoe to drop, figure Mom is going to be a lot like grandma. We thought it was starting, actually, around the time my dad was going through his kidney failure and transplant, but she’s improved mentally as much as he has physically since November. I think she was exhausted from taking care of him. Made for some memory issues it did. But not for important stuff, like his meds and all the instructions that came with pre- and post-surgery care.
I have hope for you, **MissTake **. While dialysis sucks, at least it’s keeping you going and a donor is around the corner.
takes out eyes I won’t be needing these anymore.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA <wheeze> HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Oh my. I better push ‘post’ before I have a heart attack from laughing so hard.
Is she knitting condoms? Because I’m thinking that’s the only thing going to get her off after this.
Finally something with a shear modulus
On the bonus side, I lost some weight.
That’s really “a thing”, and boy, talk about awkward. A coupla times I’ve been discussing an estimate with a client who, out of nowhere, tells me they are ill. And there’s a long, awkward pause as I try to work out what that means in the context of our conversation.
The best was the guy who told me he was a pastor, hoping to get a discount. My reply was, “that’s ok, I’m still willing to do business with you.”
I want to call someone out on FB so badly I can taste it.
I won’t. I won’t because 1) I’m really not the flame war type; 2) if what I think about a major part of this particular someone’s ongoing saga is true, then they don’t deserve any sympathy because it was self-inflicted, and 3) the story keeps changing to the extent that anyone still believing the saga must be, IMO, deranged.
I shared some information about a specific incident with this person a few years ago. This person is the type who squirrels information then spins it into a self-sympathy-plea-for-attention saga. This person did it countless times in the past. This person also has a loyal band of followers/friends/whatever who provide the head pats and whatnot. This is what’s happening now.
I want to call this person out so badly I can taste it. But I won’t.
Oh, god. I think future me wrote this post. This is precisely, word for word, what will happen.
Can somebody please direct me to a radio station that isn’t playing Sam Smith every second song, all day long? Not that I don’t like him, but at this rate I’m getting there.
Um, WE?
Did I miss something Shoe?
Reminds me of this John Wayne bit.
“The hell I won’t!”
LOLOL!
My “hell I won’t” isn’t that emphatic, but if this person keeps posting the same drivel, it will be. I’ve been scrolling past everything so I won’t be tempted.
At this point, I would just unfollow them so their posts aren’t in my newsfeed. Then visit their page only when the mood fits.
{{LavenderBlue}}
I think our relationship will be better if she’s not in the same house, but I won’t have to worry about anyone canonizing her I don’t think.
I was going to practice some music in my room today, but the neighbours have instead decided that I was going to listen to their music for the rest of the afternoon. Oooooooookay.
This post, I want to hug this post. We didn’t even manage to make it to friendship when my mom died, six years ago. She and I had just made it all the way to “talking civilly”. She was so jealous of my bio mom all her life, so much so that it colored every one of her interactions with me. When I mourn for her I know I am mourning for everything she could have been. And my dad does indeed talk about her like a saint. I don’t dishonor her memory but cancer stole any chance we had of being a mother and daughter.
I comfort myself with the thought that I am my mother, or what she would have been, had she been happy.
And that, boys and girls, is the reason why I no longer speak to someone who, at one point, was one of my bestest friends for life. She turned into a professional victim after her divorce and my tolerance for her whiny pity-me bullshit and her circle of enabling “friends” went straight into the Earth’s core. Which made for a **real **fun conversation when she messaged me on AIM (this was back when we were first learning to assemble the tubes for the internet) and straight up asked me why I wasn’t speaking to her. “It’s not you, it’s me” covers a multitude of sins.
In the present day, FUCK THIS HEAT. It’s in the low 90s and I am *dying *here. Before you people in the southwest point your fingers and laugh, please note I do not have air conditioning. Not in my apartment, not in my car. Usually I don’t need it, but right now I can’t even sleep at night because it’s so fucking hot.
Related rant: fuck you, car AC. Why did you have to die now?
Ha. I wouldn’t recommend it. Though the watermelon, kale, tomato and pineapple smoothie I had last night only tasted a little like dirt, not only like dirt, so that’s an improvement.
Unfortunately, he also watched a documentary on veganism. He wants to be vegan now. I did that once on a dare for a month and I hated it. I need to take his Nook away, or most of my food will be consumed in liquid form and I’ll have to say goodbye to cheese.