April 4, 1999
Ok....
Last week Murphy struck big time. I smashed the side of the truck while trying to navigate a narrow multi-level parking garage. There has been some rather major changes at work. And today, my husband called the cops because the kids were alone for less than two hours.

Time to count my blessings, I guess...

1. My brother smashed the same side of his much smaller truck in the very same parking garage, so my dad didn't rake me over the coals for damaging what was once his pride and joy.



2. My father did cosign the lease and expressed his worries to me in a logical and nonabusive way.



3. There is a good chance I may be able to get Sundays off starting this week.



4. Called some old friends at the company I use to work for before I became a full-time mother and a recruiter for this company called me and asked me to email a resume to her. There is a possibily I could get a job closer to my new apartment.



5. I may not see myself as thinner, but my jeans are starting to slide down on me. I'll have to pick up a belt here soon to keep them up.



6. I had been home for over an hour when the cop came by and he seemed satisfied that the kids were okay. [I think seeing the ease with which my daughter handled our "demon" dog helped to ease his fears greatly.]

April 6, 1999
Today was a lot better, except for one person who didn't know me or anything about my children or our situation telling me that an eight year-old child was too young to be left alone for even an hour. Over-protectedness is abuse too.

But outside of that, I heard back from the recruiter and my resume has been forwarded to the team responsible for professional hires. Imagine that--me, a professional! I was just hoping to be hired for the internal computer help desk, but this sounds like something more. Either way, I'll be happy.

The apartment people called and I've been approved finally for the apartment. Dad called to remind me again that I'll need to keep the place clean, so my husband can't called CPS. This is getting annoying. I'm not stupid. I don't need to be told something several times, especially when it's something I'm planning to do anyway. Thank you so much for your supportiveness. Frankly, I can do without the suppositions that I'm worthless as a housekeeper.

Anyway....I met a guy on the train to my son's dentist appointment. He offered me the seat next to him and we started to talk. When we got to my stop, he asked for my number. I was flattered and a bit surprised. I've had other gentlemen flirt with me over the Internet or the phone at work, but I had always felt that if they ever saw me in person that they would lose interest quickly. Too bad he's too young and doesn't seem to have much abition for himself. I guess that what happens when you look and sound younger than your actual age--guys your own age think you're too young for them--and even though I know a lot of nice younger guys, I can't see myself serious with any of them.

The dental appointment went pretty well, and I even got up the courage to let the dentist see my awful teeth. He's given me a treatment routine to keep things from getting worse before I can afford to get them fixed. Turns out that his speciality is restorative dentistry.

Talk to a friend a few days back and found out that my husband has not only cut down the apricot tree that had died last summer, but the healthy one also. I realize he doesn't like apricots, but I would think that finishing the main bathroom or putting up the fence would have a higher priority. Looking back, it occurs to me that whenever he's upset, he needs to destroy something. Once he systematically destroyed a long sword that he had been working on for months. When I asked he why, he just told me that it had a flaw and was worthless. Was rather irritating to me, because I had a friend who was interested in buying it from him. He once shaved off a full beard and buzzed his head because he felt that our friends thought he was a terrible husband. At the time I had brochitis very bad and had a chemical burn inside my throat from the red dye in the cough drops he insisted I use, instead of letting me get the clear methol ones I prefer. *shake head* He could of spent his time better by helping me with the meals and stuff while they were there, instead of disfiguring himself. And this person says he doesn't have any emotional problems. Can we say denial?

The funny thing is: I'm the exact opposite. When I'm upset, I feel the need to create something. Crafts, gardening, etc. The few times I've actually destroyed something for the sake of releasing my pain, I've had to really talk myself into it for several days. Go figure...

April 15, 1999
I'm digusted with men in general!!!
I had a traffic accident last Friday. I was driving behind this bottled water delivery truck went it stopped in the middle of the road. I stopped and figured it was going to pull into a nearby drive way, when I saw the reverse lights go on. I tried to put the truck in reverse, but I couldn't get the truck to cooperate. The delivery truck hit me as I hit the horn to let him know I was there. The front end is smashed and I can't open the driver's side door, but it is still drivable. I thought I hit the steering wheel, but the hospital says it was my seatbelt I felt and outside of some heavy internal bruising I seem to be okay--no fractures or damage to anything major according to the x-rays. I should be healed soon. I have contacted the bottled water company and their insurance company, as well as my own.

Which leads to another annoying thing. Found out that my husband lied about putting the van back on our insurance. Good news: he didn't cancel the insurance on the truck and our insurance agent is going to help me change the insurance on it when I move near my other sister. My insurance agent is one of the few males I am not annoyed with.

This Sunday the kids and I spent some time with the guy from the train. Between my medication and his obvious attraction to my hair, I was extremely confused the whole time. On one hand, it was nice to have someone attracted to me, but on the other I knew he was wrong for me. He left his duffel bag in the truck and I suspect it was on purpose.

After a deep four hour nap and a night's sleep, I was no longer confused, but annoyed. I am not attracted to him. He's nice, but that's about it. I want someone my intellectual equal at least. I definitely do *not* want an overgrown boy who still doesn't have any direction in his life and thinks that Star Trek and Star Wars are the only science fiction works around. And frankly, I think the only thing attracting him is a percieved sense of vulnerability and my hair...which I came within a breath of cutting off Monday and handing to him just to get him to stop touching me.

Do I sound cynical? Well, maybe I have a right to be. I find it so strange that I have more men chasing me now than I did when I was single, even though I'm overweight and made it very clear that I had no desire for a romantic relationship (to put it mildly) with them. Where the hell were these people ten years ago? I was talking to customer at work while we were on hold for someone else and he made the suggestion that the very thing attracting these guys was the fact I wasn't trying to go after them. Whatever. All I know is my body cannot love what my heart does not--that's just the way I am. I have always had a very hard time faking affection, even in friendly hugs. I'm too old to change that now.

I'm also too old to deal with 20 something year-olds who want to monopolize my time. I have two children and my writing, both which are very dear to me. I am seriously considering coloring my hair so I look like I have more gray and drawing crow's feet at the corner of my eyes so I will look more my own age. I already have the beginnings of a witch's lock in front--it might be nice to help it along. I'll have to figure something how to make my voice sound older too. It's annoying to have someone admit that they knew you wanted to rest that morning and then state they weren't going to let you do it--especially when you have told them that you were recovering from an accident. Between the internal bruising and my fibromyalgia, it's a wonder I'm moving at all. Damn it! I think I'll stick to older men who will at least respect my poor aching body. Unfortunately, I look so young that most of them feel like they're robbing the cradle even if I'm only a few years younger.

The most annoying thing is I've dealt with guys like this before and when you tell them you want to be nothing but friends, they smile and say, "Of course! I understand completely!" when they're really thinking, "I'm sure if I stick around you long enough, you'll fall hopelessly in love with me." I had forgotten how dense and naive men in their mid-twenties are. Poor bastard doesn't even realize that I have no intention of even giving as much as a peck on the cheek. And if he keeps these little games up with leaving stuff in my truck and having me check over math he has already done (looked over his tax return Monday morning - I'm in better financial shape), I am going to lose my temper soon.

Anyway, at least he didn't show up at the train station when I went to take my daughter to her dental appointment. I got another surprise when we got to the dentist office--they had made an appointment for me too. They took tons of x-rays and at the moment it looks like the only teeth I have worth saving are the six in the bottom front.

I was devastated and angry. IF my husband had let me get the crowns I needed six years ago, I wouldn't had cracked those teeth, which caused the other ones to go like a chain reaction. Yes, it was going to be an expense, but nothing compared to what it's going to be now. His mom had even offered to lend us money to take care of our dental needs and he turned her down. When I went ahead and found a dentist for myself, he threw a fit and said the man charged too much and was just a con artist. Even threatened not to pay for the parts of the examination not fully covered by insurance. Then I insisted that he go ahead and find a dentist, because I didn't want dentures--they may be common in his family, but they're not in mine--especially at my age. He found one who suited HIS idea of cost. I guess my husband never heard the expression "You get what you pay for", because I had to get the kids work redone by other dentists and only two of his fillings are still in my mouth. Even with the cheap dentist, my husband wouldn't let me get crowns. "Insurance will cover only 50%, and we can't afford them." I hope the bastard rots in hell.

I called him last night to yell at him, but when he answered the phone, I thought, "I'm going to be damned if I'm going to let him make me lose my temper!" I told him about the accident and the dentures and that was it. I don't know what's going on inside his moronic brain, but he didn't react to any of it. Probably thinks this is a sign of me weakening or something. I hate him.

Of course the dentures are my fault too. Depressed or not, I should have taken better care of my teeth. I should have fought to get those crowns, instead of retreating into the background and hoping we'd get around to it soon. I should have stuck up for myself and asked my mother in-law for the loan she offered.

Snort!
Well, I can always use the dentures to scare off the guys. Who wants to be with a women with dentures in her thirties? I would rather have implants though.

April 16, 1999
ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!
I can't believe I let myself get verbally battered like I did today. My old "friend" N tracked me down again and I walked right into her damn verbal trap. I fought it though. I refuse to accept her notion that she is the "wronged" one and I am the "emotional" one. She is so much like my mother and hit so many of my buttons. She says she has changed. I say she did--she's gotten even better at verbal manipulation.

I am so angry I could scream. She kept contradicting herself, but whenever I tried to point it out, she side-stepped with the skill of a politician. She wants me to finally decide about our friendship, which I had tried to end several years back. I told her that a friendship needed more than just a "history". A.B. Normal was with me at the time. She says that N will never give me up easily.

The stupid thing about it all is that part of me is afraid that everybody will think that I am a terrible person. I know she talks a lot, but I also know that most of the people who know both of us, know that I am a decent stable person and she is the clingy manipulative bitch.

A.B Normal was really worried because she knew what I had been through lately, and was shocked to see me of all people be so emotionally distraught. She took the phone from me, and N went from martyrdom to rudeness. A.B. wasn't up to really confronting her, but she wanted to get me off the phone.

I need to break away from this relationship. It is an evil thing and I resent her taking advantage of my current vulnerability.

April 24, 1999
My power supply died last weekend. I got a new one Thursday, but I still haven't hooked things up yet. I'm currently using someone else's computer.

The company of the truck that hit me has asked me to get three repair estimates and says they will pay me. I have gotten the estimates, but have decided to wait and talk to a lawyer before sending them--not because I'm hoping for more money, but because yesterday I received divorce papers from my husband, dated a couple of days after I told him about the accident. The bastard seems to think I wrecked the truck on purpose. Unfortunately, he filed a couple of weeks before I would be able to do it here, so I will be travelling back there for court appearences--the first of which is May 9th.

He also wants custody of the kids, yet he didn't call them this past Sunday. Makes a lot of sense, doesn't it? Well, not to me. I'm really curious on who's going to watch them while he's at work. He loves the praise he gets from putting so much time into work. I seriously doubt he would cut back for the sake of the kids. Heaven knows, he wouldn't put up his own tools for their sake, or censure his own movies. Heck, I'm the one who had to insist we take them to the doctor when they were sick most of the time.

As near as I can tell, he only wants them to prove to everybody that *he* is the "good" parent and *I* am the crazy one. This irrates me more than anything, because I want my children because I love them and want to make sure they are taken care of. I'll be damned if I'm going to let that self-center creep take them from me. He's the one who would call them turds and stuff, even though I told him not to. He did stop a little, but whenever he's angry, he yells at them and blames them for everything he can't blame me for. I don't know I could live knowing they were under the primary care of such a person. My stomach acid production would go into industrial strength.

Hopefully I can find a lawyer I can afford to fight this...

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