On The Plus Side, We're Reducing Our Carbon Footprint

I miss the dog parks. There are a handful close by that we would always alternate between, sometimes hitting two different ones a day. Unfortunately MegaE has changed our exercise routine, seeing as any dog being walked that we pass in the car, results in Riley barking. Barking = Automatic Regurge. No questions asked.

So now I walk them on the leash. Around the neighborhood. It's quiet, and certainly convenient but also getting rather dull. Needless to say, we will have to start venturing further, sans Miss. With my hand burned, it has been challenging enough, but at least we went in a predictable circle and if she spotted a squirrel, I simply let go of her leash. Regardless, we were never far from home.

I did get a mesh muzzle for Riley, figuring on using it in the car to keep him from barking, as well as when he roamed the backyard unaccompanied - to keep him from eating anything. But my fear has been that he will bark anyway, then choke on the regurge.

Meanwhile, I am going to start graphing his episodes, to see if I can determine some sort of pattern. As I tell my GF often, he has good days and bad days. Sure, I am journaling everything but seeing it on a graph may better assist me in my endless endeavour to figure this bloody disease out.

Time, Revisited

Time exists only as a means to measure the space between preparing his food, spending 20 minutes feeding him 5-6 times per day, and cleaning up episodes of regurgitation.

Time, or Something Like It

Time. It seems to pass so quickly, doesn't it?

Or does it?

When I think about how fast April went for example, it seems really, really fast.

When I think about how my idyllic life @ Le Monde died just four years ago, it seems really, really slow.

Curious.

Things You Should Never Say

When my brother and I were little, and my dad was out to sea, the day-to-day would inevitably become too much for her to bear. Given that I have little memories of him not at sea,

(except of course that she was often this way when he was home, and I've forgotten that he spent all his home time hiding in the garage with a 12 pack of beer)

life was always in an apparent state of unbearableness.

And unfortunately for my brother and me, you were never quite sure what might set her off.

Maybe we ran out of milk. Maybe we hadn't done our chores. Maybe, as soon as she came in the door, we wanted to know what was for dinner.

Innocent, kids being kids. In other words, it was nothing.

Every day, there was ranting and raving to be had. Sometimes she said the most horrible, hurtful, mean-spirited things. Things you should never say to another human being much less your own babies. Sometimes she did more then cause emotional pain. And then, she would say, she just wanted to run away.

I have come to realize only now that she didn't want to run away from us.
She wanted to run away from herself.

At least that is what I have decided to tell myself.

The Tricks We Play On Ourselves

It's funny. Things don't work out and everyone moves on. If you're me, and maybe this is everyone, I don't know, you have it in your mind that your ex becomes perfect in her new life. That none of the problems she had in your life exist anymore, her new partner can do no wrong, and her new family is perfect in every way.

Even when you know its bullshit, somehow, you have yourself convinced. So, if your me, you then wonder, "what's wrong with me? Why couldn't she be that way for me?"

But she's not that way. Not now. Not with anyone. She still has the same issues, the same problems, the same idiosyncrasies, the same drama, the same insane compulsions, the same ... everything. And all new ones based on new dynamics, new exchanges, new differences.

But still, you wonder.

Pushing on This, Pulling on That

Something has to give.

It has been five months since I felt I had no choice but to take my daughter's dad in, and I am happy I had a basement to put him. But he has absolutely no source of income and $200 in food stamps a month just does not cut it when he is here using electricity all day and can eat more then my growing teenagers. Scrimping and scrapping to get by until the next paycheck is just plain getting old. Particularly since I make a decent salary. Granted he does keep my kitchen clean and is here with Riley when I am at work, but this is not my life.

So today I ask him (again) about the Compass Center which is a place that takes care of homeless vets and gets them set up in low income housing. (Thankfully my wonderful GF has provided him with these resources including the medical attention he is now getting at the VA).

He stares at me blankly then stutters "that's mostly for housing"

Um, hello!

"Exactly. You don't live here and you can't keep staying here month after month. This was suppose to be temporary."

So uncomfortable. But what choice do I have? If he had been doing what he should have been doing all this time, we wouldn't be having this conversation.

It's time I started taking care of me.

This is my Life

May First, and my ex-husband is still living in my basement, my dog is still regurging on a daily basis making him the equivalent of a special needs child, I'm still married yet my ex is already re-partnered with four kids and a grandson, my mom is as stubborn as ever and unable or unwilling to extend me even the most basic of courtesy, I can only see my girlfriend for a few days every month, I can't get a hair cut, go to lunch with friends, or see a movie. And I'm tired. Always. Very. Tired.