Friday, December 18, 2009

WTF Friday: At Wit's End

This is not my usual WTF Friday - namely because I am just give the fuck out.  This is more of a lament than a rant this time around.  I just don't know WTF to do anymore.  I keep trying and pushing and forcing the positive - I try to live there instead of wallowing in all the shit that really is my life, but I am just so utterly exhausted that I don't know what to do.  I can't seem to win.  I know whatever happened to Baby Jane.  I live with her lately.  Her crazy train has derailed and gone crashing through the fuckin' forest like a deranged werewolf for the past few weeks.  If I am not dealing with the Sphincter Police Control Freak [dripping with pretension]:  "Now you are only alllowed _____ this week." Then screech-smash-bam!  We have Needy Nellie [plaintive]:  "Are you mad at me?  Should I go somewhere?" (mind you we live in a hotel room at the moment, where the fuck is there to go?) then crash-bang-boom comes Kumba YaYa: "Let's hold hands and sing and play cards and..."  And then - for the kicker - I AM THE ASSHOLE!  because I just don't react.  I keep my mouth shut and try to be as unobtrusive as humanly possible - but that is not right either!!!  I guess I am supposed to take the bait and react and argue.  It started again last night - via fucking text messaging on the phone.  I just turned my phone off.  Not going there.

I know she tells everyone how horrid I am am, and oh-poor-me, WOE!!!  But shit, what the hell am I supposed to do.  Not to say that I am a Saint by any means.  I get cranky when I don't have cigarettes or coffee - or food - but again, I just usually withdraw and try to STFU and leave it be.  I guess I should just succumb to her own addiction in trade for my cigarettes.  Sitting in bed and shoveling food into your face seems acceptable around here; smoking, not so much.  I chose the wrong addiction, I guess.  I guess I just need to double in size; work somewhere that fills the feed trough as reward for doing well; and sit in bed (couch) and eat entire bags of corn chips at a time.  I really don't know anymore.  It's like I can't do one god damned fucking thing right as far as she is concerned.  Can't fucking win.

Then on top of all this shit, I am trying to find work here (at our current location).  On foot.  In the middle of winter.  During a recession.  With no experience/education applicable to anything hiring.  With nerve damage in both feed and a back that needs surgery.  Also trying to familiarize us with the new location we are to move to after the first of the year.  Maintain what other few exhausting relationships I actually have left and juggle visiting with my friends and family around her schedule.  Plus I do ALL the cooking and cleaning here.  It makes for a long fucking day.  It makes for a long fucking life.  And then she comments the other night, "You always seem so sad."  Well, God damn, Dazey - I wonder why.  Wit's fucking end.  I am so fucking frustrated I am bawling like a rejected Dodge Baller as I fucking type this.  It's ridiculous.

I know that something will give.  I know that this is just a rough spot.  I have actually made some headway with the job prospects.  I even got an interview that I had applied for a while back - wrong city now, buit it's a promising sign none the less.  Things are looking up.  There is a silver lining - there's just a whole lot of fucking rain pouring down at the moment.  I know it will all come about.  Work will come.  We'll get settled.  All will be well, I know.  I am, despite it all, I am still hopeful.  This is not all for nothing.  We have struggled this hard and this long to no end.  Surely.  I have to believe that.  But hanging on in the meantime and getting run over on a daily fucking basis by Princess Whackypant's Crazy Train is a bit much to bear...

WTF to do?

Dig in my broken nails and hang on for dear fucking life I guess.

Keep on keeping on and hope for the best...

Hell I dunno, but I'm fuckin' trying...

Is a cup of coffee, a meal (and a cigarette), and a fuckin' break
- with sane persons - too much to ask for?