I swear to God people are going to start thinking I’m making this shit up.
But I’m not. Unfortunately.
The last year and a half have moved like a blur through the penciled lines of my life. No longer does my consciousness ebb in and out in tidal waves of disbelief or stunned amazement. No, we have finally reached the dimensions of pure surreality. There is no possible way this much bad shit happens to a family in such a short amount of time.
I’m trying not to be petty, realizing that much worse tragedies arise than mine in this world. But the stress of one constant blow after another is beginning to wear away the rock of my emotional resistance.
Mired in a custody battle for my two daughters, which involves trudging through mountainous paper work for court proceedings, detailing events over the last 2 years, the impending social study and ever present irritation of dealing with an obsessive nut case who hasn’t let go yet despite 4 years HAVING passed, I also have been told that the company I work for is now basically shutting the doors to the division I work in and for at least half of us there will be a lay off most likely to be announced around mid August. All this in the middle of trying to secure a new home, so my family doesn’t end up without the ability to even have a home. You see I’ve been expecting the lay off. I just thought I had at least a few more years not a few more months.
For me purchasing a new home is in and of itself a pain in the ass. Dealing with a neglectful, irresponsible, irrational ex spouse is a pain in the ass. HAVING to look for a new job while you’re still taking classes to better your life is a pain in the ass. Trying to ensure your children won’t be harmed by their father’s neglect is a pain in the ass.
As if all of this isn’t enough to send a person twittering to the meds cabinet, last night my 10 year old daughter, (a child I am seriously beginning to wonder about the stability thereof) accidentally slammed the door on my female chihuahua’s paw. Crushing it. 3 hours in the emergency vet hospital at 1 am came the diagnosis, the only real hope was surgery upwards of 1500.00. Money I absolutely did not have. In the morning my family veterinarian kindly explained to me that no, the SPCA didn’t do veterinary work like this. That they did not even have surgeons on staff, that’s only on tv. His only other advice maybe for another 500-600 it could be cast and she would end up a three legged dog. She was already deaf.
With my husbands hysterical rantings still ringing in my ear FROM all last night INTO the morning I knew.. I didn’t even have the additional 300-500 dollars. As in did not have it. It did not exist. There was no where or way to get it. I couldn’t even afford what I had done so far. My only hope had been if her total treatment might’ve been a mere 250 total, then maybe I could squeak it by.
So tearfully, I did the only thing I could afford to do. As I cut the paltry CHECK for that service I stupidly asked the tech, “What about animal cops?”
“Oh, hon”, she said, “I can’t tell you how many times people ask me about that. There’s just no such thing as Parkland (a local charity hospital) for dogs. I’m so sorry.”
And just think.. I didn’t bother to mention the court battle two years ago over my husbands part of the business he helped build that his partner screwed him out of. He finally succeeded in forcing the bastard to buy him out. Which of course he promptly had to split with the ex wife.
If somebody could please stop this ride..I’d like to get off now.