Saturday, May 12, 2012

Philanthropist is Not in the Job Description

It's four o'clock in the morning and I have been awake for two hours. For once it's not Riley's fault; no, this time it is me who is hungry. Laying there, I found I was asking myself one question, repeatedly.

"What are you doing?"

I'm certainly not applying for martyrdom. I am no philanthropist. So why am I suffering? Why am I stressed out, depressed, and hungry? Oh I know why, but still it seems appropriate to ask myself.

"What are you doing?"

Your guess is as good as mine. You see, I have not been married to Bird's dad since she was four years old. That's when I realized, hey, you're not a heterosexual. Duh. So why, 13 years later, has he been living in my basement for five months? Seemingly without a care in the world. Streaming his stupid programs on Netflix day after day, sleeping, eating, using resources I should not have to provide. In essence I am a single mother. One who has not only not received child support since said ex-h quit his secure civil servant job, what two years ago? But one who is stupid enough to go ahead and foot the bill for his daily existence.

Seriously. I have to be done with this. Of the several things I cannot control this is not one of them.

2 comments:

  1. You have you and Bird to worry about. He cannot drag you down into his negativity. You've got way too many other things to deal with. It's time for D to take care of D and what D wants. Self preservation is not selfish. Do what you need to do and those that live you, like we do, will be in your corner no matter what.

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    Replies
    1. That was supposed to say those that love you. Damn iPhone!

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