The Life and Times of Useless Wretch
Yeah ok, whatever. The whole "my life is so interesting it must be reported in a newsworthy fashion" phase is behind me, though I never did do it with any sort of regularity anyway. Onward to the heart of the matter...
Three weeks ago, my dad broke his left arm, right below the ball in the shoulder socket. He lost his balance, fell, and landed on the left side of his back, on concrete. We found out that apparently the only thing they can do for a break in that position is to put his arm in a sling and medicate him for the pain (which he's run out of and they won't refill). Couple the broken arm with the fact that he can't walk anymore -- diabetic neuropathy's pretty well made his legs useless except to get from one place to sit to another -- and you've got a recipe for helplessness. My dad is completely dependent on my presence 24/7, and will probably be for the rest of his life, even if his arm does heal. We're unsure how much his cancer has developed right now, because he's been unable to lay on the table to get an MRI with his broken arm.
There's a score of people who'd love to see me and whom I'd love to visit, tons of plans I've had and things I'd love to be doing with my free time, but I simply can't. (Not to mention I haven't been able to go out and get laid!) None of my family on my dad's side will help me. I get Eric not helping.. hell, his cunt of a mother has poisoned him against our dad, and the fact that he's 40 and still living with her is disturbing at best. Kim lives in Louisiana and is going through her own problems, so I get that too. Mark... well we haven't heard from him in a while. He's either in jail or strung out on meth. I don't know if I'd want him there anyway.. while I wouldn't think so, it's not entirely impossible he'd steal from us to feed his addiction. That shit eats your soul.
Really, the problem I have is with Vicki and her family. She lives right down the block, and she hasn't once offered in the whole three weeks to take care of him herself for even half a day so that I might be able to enjoy myself away from the house. Maybe she thinks I don't deserve a break b/c of the past. Maybe, but whatever. I'm not the same person now. I bust my ass every day working to help pay our bills, and I'm taking care of our father entirely by myself.
And now, on to OTHER drama! So for a week, I let a friend, Savannah, stay with me because her mom kicked her out. She was helping me watch my dad so I could run errands, but she was SUPPOSED to be starting work at McDonalds. I knew she had a pill addiction since she found her boyfriend dead a coupla months ago, but whatever. So long as she supports her own habit, I'll let her deal with tragedy her own way.
Well, it turns out that her pill money wasn't coming from her father as she claimed. Rather, it was coming out of our change jug. At LEAST $200 was stolen, and about two oz. of weed. The bitch has the NERVE to act like she doesn't know what I'm talking about. But whatever.
After everything mentioned above, I've come to a few conclusions. One is that people need to help themselves, and I can no longer afford to have a kind heart. From now on, no one can stay at my house for more than one night, NO EXCEPTIONS! In fact, no more free anything from me. You wanna drink from the store? That'll be $1.50. You wanna smoke some of my bud at my house? If you're not matching me, then you owe me money. Wanna ride? Ass up the money. FUCK BEING NICE!
Three weeks ago, my dad broke his left arm, right below the ball in the shoulder socket. He lost his balance, fell, and landed on the left side of his back, on concrete. We found out that apparently the only thing they can do for a break in that position is to put his arm in a sling and medicate him for the pain (which he's run out of and they won't refill). Couple the broken arm with the fact that he can't walk anymore -- diabetic neuropathy's pretty well made his legs useless except to get from one place to sit to another -- and you've got a recipe for helplessness. My dad is completely dependent on my presence 24/7, and will probably be for the rest of his life, even if his arm does heal. We're unsure how much his cancer has developed right now, because he's been unable to lay on the table to get an MRI with his broken arm.
There's a score of people who'd love to see me and whom I'd love to visit, tons of plans I've had and things I'd love to be doing with my free time, but I simply can't. (Not to mention I haven't been able to go out and get laid!) None of my family on my dad's side will help me. I get Eric not helping.. hell, his cunt of a mother has poisoned him against our dad, and the fact that he's 40 and still living with her is disturbing at best. Kim lives in Louisiana and is going through her own problems, so I get that too. Mark... well we haven't heard from him in a while. He's either in jail or strung out on meth. I don't know if I'd want him there anyway.. while I wouldn't think so, it's not entirely impossible he'd steal from us to feed his addiction. That shit eats your soul.
Really, the problem I have is with Vicki and her family. She lives right down the block, and she hasn't once offered in the whole three weeks to take care of him herself for even half a day so that I might be able to enjoy myself away from the house. Maybe she thinks I don't deserve a break b/c of the past. Maybe, but whatever. I'm not the same person now. I bust my ass every day working to help pay our bills, and I'm taking care of our father entirely by myself.
And now, on to OTHER drama! So for a week, I let a friend, Savannah, stay with me because her mom kicked her out. She was helping me watch my dad so I could run errands, but she was SUPPOSED to be starting work at McDonalds. I knew she had a pill addiction since she found her boyfriend dead a coupla months ago, but whatever. So long as she supports her own habit, I'll let her deal with tragedy her own way.
Well, it turns out that her pill money wasn't coming from her father as she claimed. Rather, it was coming out of our change jug. At LEAST $200 was stolen, and about two oz. of weed. The bitch has the NERVE to act like she doesn't know what I'm talking about. But whatever.
After everything mentioned above, I've come to a few conclusions. One is that people need to help themselves, and I can no longer afford to have a kind heart. From now on, no one can stay at my house for more than one night, NO EXCEPTIONS! In fact, no more free anything from me. You wanna drink from the store? That'll be $1.50. You wanna smoke some of my bud at my house? If you're not matching me, then you owe me money. Wanna ride? Ass up the money. FUCK BEING NICE!