This whole "All by Myself" thing...
This whole "All by Myself" thing would be going about a billion times better if I were actually all by myself - and didn't have two (adult??) anchors weighing me down.
His mower died. Last year. The yard hasn't been cut since LAST FUCKING YEAR.
Ok. So we live in Florida (I think that was at least implied earlier in the blog). This place claims to be the sunshine state - but in all actuality, it's the rain-every-fucking-afternoon state and... to be completely honest, the hurricane-and-blown-down-fucking-trees state. Fun, right?
Fun fact about biology in a place where it rains buckets on the daily. Shit GROWS. The rain forest is the rain FOREST. Not the rain cute-little-perfectly-manicured garden.
So... I've been trying to fix the mower. No luck. Been trying to get it fixed. Well, apparently somebody hit something and damaged it beyond repair (unless I'm Ms. Moneybags... spoiler: I'm not).
So I researched. And researched. And I bought a mower. ("But I bought a good mower - you could've just gotten the same thing for cheaper," he said. "It's not my fault that I hit a stump!" Ok, 1-yes, it is your fault you hit a stump and 2-good for you - you chose what was best for you when you were the one mowing the lawn. I bought something that *I* can use and that won't fail *ME*... because I'm going to be doing this all by myself. alone. without you coming to cut the ex's lawn. Because we BOTH know you're not going to do one little iota more than the court orders for your kids, much less me.
So... while I was trying to lug 80-odd pounds of lawn equipment around the big box store, I was also fielding texts and calls from twat-weasel and his coparent about problems with the dog. I've said for a long time that she needs to be crated at night - she has too much freedom. But "oh that's cruel". She has accidents at night now - basically because she doesn't have to wait. So... they want me to basically stay up all night and watch her like a hawk. Take her out multiple times. Just do every goddamn thing when, she likes her crate and would sleep happily there if people moving about the house all hours of the night just encourage her to get up, take a quick walkabout, and douse the carpet and curl back up in the bed. What bed? The bed I rarely ever sleep in anymore because of... him.
I'm tired of this life. But I'm proud of myself for tackling the jungle that had grown up around my house.... alone. Just one more step toward independence. One more step toward living the life of a single mom.
I fuckin rock, y'all. I do.
be kind and think "get-the-fuck-outta-her-house" thoughts directed toward the freeloaders.
Cheers
C.D.
His mower died. Last year. The yard hasn't been cut since LAST FUCKING YEAR.
Ok. So we live in Florida (I think that was at least implied earlier in the blog). This place claims to be the sunshine state - but in all actuality, it's the rain-every-fucking-afternoon state and... to be completely honest, the hurricane-and-blown-down-fucking-trees state. Fun, right?
Fun fact about biology in a place where it rains buckets on the daily. Shit GROWS. The rain forest is the rain FOREST. Not the rain cute-little-perfectly-manicured garden.
So... I've been trying to fix the mower. No luck. Been trying to get it fixed. Well, apparently somebody hit something and damaged it beyond repair (unless I'm Ms. Moneybags... spoiler: I'm not).
So I researched. And researched. And I bought a mower. ("But I bought a good mower - you could've just gotten the same thing for cheaper," he said. "It's not my fault that I hit a stump!" Ok, 1-yes, it is your fault you hit a stump and 2-good for you - you chose what was best for you when you were the one mowing the lawn. I bought something that *I* can use and that won't fail *ME*... because I'm going to be doing this all by myself. alone. without you coming to cut the ex's lawn. Because we BOTH know you're not going to do one little iota more than the court orders for your kids, much less me.
So... while I was trying to lug 80-odd pounds of lawn equipment around the big box store, I was also fielding texts and calls from twat-weasel and his coparent about problems with the dog. I've said for a long time that she needs to be crated at night - she has too much freedom. But "oh that's cruel". She has accidents at night now - basically because she doesn't have to wait. So... they want me to basically stay up all night and watch her like a hawk. Take her out multiple times. Just do every goddamn thing when, she likes her crate and would sleep happily there if people moving about the house all hours of the night just encourage her to get up, take a quick walkabout, and douse the carpet and curl back up in the bed. What bed? The bed I rarely ever sleep in anymore because of... him.
I'm tired of this life. But I'm proud of myself for tackling the jungle that had grown up around my house.... alone. Just one more step toward independence. One more step toward living the life of a single mom.
I fuckin rock, y'all. I do.
be kind and think "get-the-fuck-outta-her-house" thoughts directed toward the freeloaders.
Cheers
C.D.
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