Monday, August 18, 2014

Any officer who goes into action without his sword is improperly dressed.


Some things that have happened:

I have officially moved out of the apartment. Half my stuff got thrown out. I left the furniture and a ton of other things in the apartment for my landlord to deal with. Everything else went into a storage container (one of those pod things they deliver to your driveway), which was bombed for fleas.

(This was a dramatic event in itself, wherein Stepmom did a number of sneaky subtle things to ensure my father and brothers were nowhere to be seen when I really needed them, particularly on the day I actually had to move everything into the storage pod thing. Right before I had a full on psychotic episode, Ruthie{the pastor's wife} showed up with four guys from church to help load everything.)

I have spent the last week and a half placating my mother, who has the emotional maturity of a spoiled six-year-old and needed someone to hold her hand and guide her through the process of packing and moving out of her house.

(At 65 years old, this was the first time EVER that she has had to physically pack her belongings to move. Before now, everything has always been done for her. Y'all can probably imagine how fun my life has been the last week and a half.)


Some inspirational quotes from Mich:

"For feck's sake, it's putting things into boxes, not bloody rocket science. Stop whingeing and get off your arse and just DO IT."

"What happened to the woman who raised me to believe fretting over things was weakness!? Get your ass upstairs and pack your shit like a fucking Viking."


On the day of the actual move, the household turned into a circus. Mum locked herself in her bathroom and cried at approximately 8.30 AM. The movers arrived late, at about 9.00 AM. I was bitten by one of these arseholes:



and bled all over three of Mum's boxes of belongings.



(It wouldn't stop bleeding for like 2 days.)

Daisy the fat cat nearly escaped the house while we were trying to wrangle the cats into their carriers. But then instead of escaping out the open front doors, she ran past them and scurried into the wall in the basement. While Lil Sis just stood there and cried, I climbed into the insulation in the wall and got the cat out. Half of my body is now covered in an epic rash.

The realtor for the buyers showed up at around 10.30 AM and started bitching and being obnoxious in general because the movers weren't moving fast enough. Lady is a straight up psycho like for real. She had the crazy eyes. The movers eventually kicked her out of the house right before Mumsy called her mentally deficient to her face.

I kicked my boss out of his house so I could stay there overnight with the cats, since Mum wasn't allowed to move into the new condo until the day after we moved out of the old house. Daisy was not amused. Harleyquinn took it in stride, wandering about the house like she owned the place. 

Ivy was unsure how to react, as she usually relies upon Daisy's and Harley's reactions before she imitates them, but since they reacted to the moving situation with opposite attitudes, Ivy couldn't decide whether to hide under the bed with Daisy or hang out on the couch with Harley. Mostly she followed me around making her confused noise.

As of Friday, the condo is officially Mum's. I actually like it a lot more than I thought I would. 

Yesterday I met Rowdy Roddy Piper.

and he's like the nicest guy ever


And Josh Stewart and I are getting married any day now.



Monday, August 11, 2014

Robin Williams committed suicide.

I don't know why I'm so incredibly upset about this, but I am.

Just 2 posts ago, I quoted him from one of my fav movies.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

In which everything goes to hell (again), depression occurs at inopportune times, and I have realized I don't want to own any more possessions than what will fit in my car.

Turns out my cats did not have fleas.

My f*cking apartment did.

I had this whole long thing I had started to write, but I really don't have the energy, so here's what's been happening in the exciting life of Mich:

- I have more or less moved back in with Mumsy. Until last weekend, I had not returned to the hobbit hole for two weeks.

- On Sunday, I discovered there are so many fleas in my apartment, you can't go inside for more than 5 minutes without coming back out COVERED in them.

- My landlord says he didn't see any fleas at all when he went in. He therefore refuses to do anything other than spray some (non-toxic) stuff. Which means everything in the apartment is now garbage because he flat out refuses to bomb it.

- HE ADMITTED THEY HAVE HAD FLEAS IN THAT APARTMENT BEFORE.

- Following that conversation (during which landlord also hinted that I may not get my security deposit back), I turned into a hysterical sobbing mess at work.

(- Several minutes later, I had all four attorneys in the building come into my office telling me to calm down because I work for lawyers and obviously this sort of behaviour from landlord will result in a huge motherf*cker lawsuit.)

- My ability to cope with things in general died by late afternoon. Attempted to drive up to church to help out with VBS (which doesn't end until Friday), but only made it as far as some commuter lot off 17A and cried for like an hour.

- Emptied my purse and evaluated all the pills in my possession. Contemplated taking all of the xanax and valium. Sat there debating it for half an hour before deciding not to because I didn't have enough pills to kill me.

- Arrived home at 8.30. Mum has decided I need to go back to the shrink.

- Dadum and Stepmom called and asked for landlord's number, because obviously they're not treating their tenants right and it's time for Your Father to take care of things.

(-Stepmom believes men should always handle crisis-type tings. At the present time, I agree with her.)

-Today I just feel tired, and numb (possibly a result of the xanax--I have started taking it regularly so as to deplete my supply in an attempt to avoid taking all of it at once). 

- Hobbit hole situation is now in the hands of Dad, who is trying to get landlord to agree to have an exterminator of our choosing come in and evaluate the flea situation. We will go forward from there, based on landlord's response.



This blog is probably going to go quiet for a while. I don't know for how long.