Fecal Transplants and Home Sweet Home!

Dear Old Dad had his Fecal Transplant on December 20th thanks to an anonymous shit doner (THANK YOU, ANONYMOUS SHIT DONER!!!  By the way, who in the hell donates their SHIT????)  He is doing fantastically well and we have some hope that he may have finally beaten the evil C-DIFF (horrible colin toxin that causes horrible diarrhea that will just about kill you).  So my Dad, who has been on his death bed, literally, five times this year, lives to fight another day!  Kind of inspires me to fight for my life!  What would my life be like if I were such a fighter?

I used to be scrappy, I think.  And maybe under a gallon of Isolating which results in Depression, or Depression which results in Isolation (which one is it?), there is still a scrapper who will fight to pull her head out of her ass.  I don’t know.  All I DO know is that my first class starts a week from today and dammit I need to summon my resources and manage to LEARN this shit!  Am I scared?  FUCK YEAH.  Am I going to do it anyway?  FUCK YEAHHHHHHHH.  So yeah here comes a class.

Oh and by the way I am writing this fantastic piece from MY OWN HOME, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!!  Here I tossed and turned and hemmed and hawed about “Will I ever have my own home again?” and KABOOM!  Here I am!  In my own home!!  Be it ever so humble (and it is), it’s my fucking home!!  With my stuff!!!  And my space!  No one to fuck with my serenity!!!  Well, it’s been a long time in coming, I will say that.  And I have to say, I am grateful.  I couldn’t see my way out of the situation when my sister asked me to move out of her house, and it didn’t in any way look positive.  But this is a hell of a positive outcome.  How does this happen??  I don’t know, I’m not extraordinarily capable.  I think I have to chalk it up to my old friend Grace.  I have been Graced with a home, and a new life opportunity with these upcoming classes, as scary and intimidating as they are.

I am still working for Dr. Flaky, and I have to say, she has upped her game!  When I quit on her and she begged me to come back and I gave her all these ultimatums, she actually rose to the occasion and said “ok”.  And then she proceeded to improve her behavior so that we didn’t have such a dysfunctional working relationship which was what originally caused me to quit on her!  And now we have weekly meetings to keep up on things and, get this!  For the new year she gave me a five dollar an hour raise!  Woo.  I guess the point of writing this all was for me to see how much I have to be grateful for.  I hope I don’t sound like a dipshit goody two-shoes.  Because I don’t think I am.  But goddamn it’s nice to have some forward movement in life after a lot of stuck-feeling!  I wonder if being stuck is a hallmark of Bipolar Disorder, or my own original brand of funk.  I don’t know.  I’d appreciate some opinions.

By the way, I am sorry I’ve been so “away”.  Between Dad being sick and Mom having a stroke (don’t know if I ever mentioned that) and moving and working, I haven’t done much if any WordPressing.  So I’m sorry for my lack of presence.  Hope you all are doing well.  BIG HUGS and PEACH OUT!!

NEWS! SO MUCH NEWS!!!

thank-you

Well I went from absolutely nothin’ going on last week to EVERYTHING going on this week!  I have to preface this by saying, I did one of those moronic new-agey affirmational asshole thingeys this weekend, I took a piece of art paper and my metallic gel pens and I wrote over and over in different colors across the page “Thank You” and I told myself “When you get your own apartment, you will hang this on the wall.”  Well, fuck me.

There are Thank-You-Gasms going on right now.  First, you may know that I applied for a $5000 grant from the local Workforce Center for some IT Training to get me out of godforsaken IT Support and into something more stimulating and might I say lucrative?  Yes, I might.  I walked into the Workforce Center last week and applied for the grant after two weeks of unanswered phone calls and emails.  I filled out the application right there on the spot.  The next day, I got another application, which I immediately filled out and returned. (I swear, sometimes I act like I have my shit together!).  Now, I was told that this grant approval process would take around a month.  So I hunkered down to wait for a response.  Well shoot me in the finger was I full of shock and awe to receive my determination yesterday:  I got approved for the funding!!!!  So excited I don’t know what to do with myself.

And now ladies and gentlemen we pivot onto Axis B, whereupon I continued my obsessive apartment-hunting on Craigslist, while simultaneously acknowledging its futility.  But then HELL-O!  Here’s a one bedroom apartment under a thousand dollars a month and it doesn’t even look like the Roach Motel!  It actually looks…kind of nice!  Trying not to overthink it, I emailed the landlord.  He replied with a Kiss of Death show time:  Monday at 5pm.  Now who in their right minds wants to drive to the next town at during rush hour?  But somehow my higher self prevailed and I accepted.

I saw the place and I have to admit I “got the feeling” which is exciting because I haven’t had intuitive certainty for a long time.  But I got the “this is it” feeling and the landlord kept sweetening the deal by dropping prices and offering flexible lease terms and I’m thinking, yeah, he has a hardon for me, this is good!  So me, even with my credit score of zero, literally, zero, no credit at all, decided to accept his TransUnion request and fill it out, and I sent him an email and said look, I have this much income and this much savings, and I have a $5k grant and will be studying, and I’d really like the apartment.  To my shock, (really I should have been spurting diarrhea), he responded and said yes, let’s go forward with the lease!  And THAT, my friends, is how you get an apartment with a zero credit score and sketchy income!  You get a MIRACLE!

So I went to see Dr. Drugs today and I told him “this is literally the best report I have ever brought to you” and goddamn it felt GOOD!!  Like, here I’ve been feeling so stuck and what the fuck else can I do besides IT Support, and wondering for literally years if I will ever have my own home again, and then ker-SLAM in two days everything is *poof* solved.  It’s a bit to drink in.  So yeah, I am grateful!  I am going to hang up my Thank You sign!  I’m going to keep being grateful!  Because the road from there to here has been a long one.  And I couldn’t see my way out of it.  But somehow the Universe has taken me by the hand and said here, I’ll help you get off your ass!  You’re welcome!  And so it is.

 

Whole Lotta Nothin’

What do I got?  A whole lotta nothin’.  Nothin’ to report on the IT Training front.  Nothin’ to report on the jobs front.  Nothin’ to report on the finding a place to live front, unless you count looking at complete dumps for wayyyyy too much money.  This has happened to me before.  This time around the holidays, everything slowwwwwws downnnnnnn to a crawl.  Now normally when things aren’t going my way, I do one of three things:  I eat, I drink, or I get high.  Right now, I’m doing all three.  I’m like a runaway train.  Destination Unknown!  Can you get there from here?  Who the hell knows!  Climb aboard!  Oh and by the way, just to prove to you that Amazon has FUCKING EVERYTHING, I searched for “synthetic urine” (in case I need to pass a pre-employment drug screening) and THEY HAVE IT!!  Oh Amazon, how I love you.  I think I’ll search Amazon for turds.  Just for fun.  I know I’ll regret it because I’ll have all sorts of scatological shit (get it?) showing up in my Facebook ads feed (sneaky fuckers) but what the fuck I like to fuck with Amazon since they like to take my money.  Annnnnd the answer is they have a Tommy the Turd Toy Set!  And I thought it’d show a picture of Donald Trump….silly me!  When I learn how to be a computer hacker I’m going to substitute Donald Trump’s face for the word “turd” all over the Interwebs!  I promise!  I know, grandiose.  This is what happens when I have nothing to tell you.  I turn to fantasy.

Speaking of turds, my Dad (who is generally a turd) is going for a consultation for a Fecal Transplant on Friday!  Can you THINK of anything more disgusting?  No?  Well read on…. Yes he’s hoping for a Fecal Transplant because he can’t seem to kick this C-Diff infection (which causes deadly diarrhea) and where do they get the feces for transplantation?  They have a STOOL BANK!!!  Can you imagine working in a Stool Bank??  “What do you do, Carl?”  “Oh, I work with pieces of shit.”  “Oh Carl, don’t be so derogatory!”  “Uh no, I literally work with shit all day every day.”  “I’m so sorry, Carl.”

 I’m glad I’m not Carl. 

Flushing My Life…One Flush At A Time

Well I feel like I’m flushing my life down the toilet.  I think it’s because I’m so angry with my sister, and alienation doesn’t suit me.  I try to stay downstairs (if you’re a loser and you haven’t kept up with my blog, I live in the basement of my sister’s house, but she’s asked me to move out, because she “needs her space”, and while in a way that’s rational, in an irrational way I hate her for it, because I’m not well enough to work full time and support myself, so I’m panicking and looking for jobs that I don’t even know if I can sustain for more than a week..) – whew!  So!  I try to stay downstairs.  And I hate her.  And I get stoned every day at the end of the day.  And then I eat ALL THE FOOD.  It’s grand, believe me!

Tonight I feel especially turd-like because my niece, hateful sister’s daughter, my goddaughter, had a show choir concert, and I didn’t go.  Granted, I was working on Dr. Flaky’s voicemail report.  BUT I could have cut that short with some careful bullshit and gone.  It’s just that I’m enough of an asshole that I couldn’t force myself to go be with people, a whole big group of people, and play nice with my sister, and sit uncomfortably. even if it was the right thing to do.  It’s a sad fact that sometimes when the going gets rough, I wimp out.  I don’t do the right thing.

Speaking of not doing the right thing, as of today I *was* quitting pot!  Because I have had two interviews, count them, two, with some place that clearly has no judgment because they’ve talked to me twice (just kidding, they can’t see my bad behavior, I actually have a great resume).  So I thought, if I get a third interview, and maybe get hired, I have just enough time to quit pot and pass a drug test.  However!  I feel like shit about myself, so what did I do?  I took a double-dose.  Just to see what happens.  Hopefully I will just watch murder porn (The First 48 is the worst and the best) and fall asleep.  HOPEFULLY that’s all that happens.

So maybe I will get a job.  Maybe I will pass the drug test, that’s a challenge I don’t know if I’m up for.  But FUCK ME do I want to get out of here!!  And then there’s that maybe….maybe I will *keep* a job.  Oh I’m so full of worry and self-doubt, it’s a wonder I can even walk and talk.  I don’t know what’s going to happen.  Except I suspect my sister is going to kick me the fuck out at some point.  Jeeeeeesus take the wheel.  Take it ALL!  *Drops the mic*

 

Life Is Turned Upside Down

Well, it just takes one little conversation to turn life upside down sometimes.  In this particular instance, it was my dear sister whom I live with, who came down to “check in” with me, and informed me that she “needs her space” and needs me to move out of her house.  Boy I did not see that one coming.  While it’s true that there’s been times I’ve felt unwelcome here, I thought that overall she saw my being here as a benefit when it comes to her two kids, and having an extra adult in the home.  I guess not.

 So, a little bit of turmoil.  No, lots of turmoil.  Because the money I’m making right now isn’t enough to support me in my own place.  And the last time I had a full-time job, I was so stressed out, and wanted to die, on the regular.  And now, I’m looking at having to get another full-time job.  Ready or not.  Well or not.  Able or not.  So, with a gag in my throat, I have applied for three IT jobs today.  Really, they’ll probably all laugh me out of the room.  I haven’t worked in the field in 2 ½ years.  Fuck me!  But, what am I supposed to do?  This is an expensive-as-hell town and I need to make some money.  Oh God, this is so not me…..

 Have I mentioned that I basically hate my sister for putting me in this situation?  I know, I know, she has a right to her space.  It’s her house, if she wants me to move out, she has a right to ask.  But Jesus Christ!  Does she realize what a fucking crisis this is creating for me?????

Well enough of this Debbie Downer post.  I don’t know what to tell you, or ME, for that matter.  Life has to go on.  I think.  I HAVE thought about just killing myself to get out of this difficult situation.  But once again I think about all the people I’d hurt, and I’m like, fuck, I better live.  DAMMIT!!

What Next?

OMG. I really really really finished cleaning the FUCK out of my house. I guess I can’t call it my house any more since I just moved out of it. So I cleaned it so hard, it looks better than it did when I moved in! I hope like hell that the property manager guy does the right thing and sends me back ALL of my money!!

So I have a very “What Now?” feeling going on. I was so focused on packing, moving, and cleaning for the last few weeks and now it’s . . . Done! What next?

I am reading the latest issue of Vogue, it is like seven or eight hundred pages and weighs a TON and I think it’s injuring my arms to hold it up to read. Well not really read. It’s mostly advertisements. Mostly I look at it and go “What the FUCK? Who thought THAT was a good idea?” You know how they try to make really ugly shit look like it’s THE SHIT? Yeah. No. I don’t care what you say, Vogue, ugly is still ugly. But some of it is entertaining my brain. And then I think about how I used to sew and make my own clothes and have a sexy body and it’s like, Damn! What happened? I need to turn this shit AROUND!!! Maybe my “What next” is that I need to plot a COMEBACK to where I look and feel more like myself again. Maybe I will make myself my own little project.

Did you ever do that? I mean, with someone else? I used to date guys who were several rungs below me on the socioeconomic ladder (sue me, but I was wayyyyy better than them) and I would make the guy my improvement project. Clean him up, cut his hair, put him in some better clothes….but then he’d still be talking dirty out loud in the middle of a nice restaurant…or thinking someone was looking at him wrong and calling out across the fine, classy restaurant “What’s YOUR problem, BITCH?” Yeah that shit never worked out like I thought it should. Lots of attempts at putting lipstick on a pig. Mixed results.

Maybe I’ll have better luck at improving myself. Then again, I have been known to bust right through the appropriateness barrier at the most inopportune of times . . . Well fuck I can try anyway can’t I? We’ll see.

Moving. Done.

Yes I fucking did it!! I moved!! My shit is all stacked in storage about 77 feet high. If there is ever an earthquake I’m fucked!! Right now I am sitting on my Mom’s couch writing this. Her poodle Beau is on the loveseat. He only comes in for random snuggles. My Mom is in the next room, speaking French on the phone. She must have called a relative in Canada. I am going to stay Friday-Saturday-Sunday with my Mom and Dad, Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday with my oldest sister and her girlfriend, and Thursdays with my second sister. Until October 31. The day I hitch up the wagon and set off for Florida. A mere TWO THOUSAND MILES AWAY. This should be an interesting ride.

So I’m off to finish the cleaning of my place. The movers who were supposed to come yesterday between 8 and 9 am came at 1:30 pm so that gave me plenty of time to clean like a Ninja!! I have a hella long list of cleaning tasks to do to make the place perfect. You KNOW I’m going to get that deposit back, bitch! So that fucker will be perfect. $1350 ain’t nothin’ to sneeze at. I have a really bad back so I go in and work work work and then I have to stop and ice the back. And then..more. And more. But I made a significant dent in my perfectionist monster list of shit to do yesterday. Ooooh wouldn’t it be GREAT if I finished it all today? Now that’s a sexy fantasy. I’ll keep ya posted.

I’m going to buy some of those naughty high sugar high caffeine feels like cocaine energy drinks to try and muscle through the day. I also have bananas over there (for some reason I find bananas to be very energizing) and POP TARTS, pure junk. Oh well I guess I better start my day… I wish I had real cocaine. Just for today. Or adderrall. Ahh the drug addict in me salutes the drug addict in you. Have a groovy day.