Wednesday, 17 February 2010

A Murder of Crows - Volume 28

Well I was really proud of myself the last few weeks because I took all of my IRS booty and set all of my affairs strait. I paid off all my credit cards, cell bill, and socked away the rest for my auto insurance and the cost of registering my cars next month. Now this is on top of the extra things that I had done along the way, like getting Valentines gifts the debt left over from having to rebuild my computer last month, and paying for the myriad of “extra expenses” that I have to procure for my kids involving school. In the the end there is a really good feeling that comes over me just being at zero for a change instead of miles away from it. Of course that should teach me to feel good huh?

Well to make a long story short, I was on my way to work last night in that wonderful global warming that you couldn't even see through. Again I did everything right and was proud of myself. Needless to say I had no respect for everyone else on the road that were doing everything so horribly wrong. Accidents abound. Driving at 10 mph and sitting at every intersection for about 10 minutes waiting for the line of traffic to subside so that you could get on the next road made me damn late to begin with. So much for that extra half hour I added just in case huh? Of course I didn't sweat that, if I'm late I'm late because I never am anyway. Oh I was late alright.

I finally got into the clear, and was driving along at a brisk 20 mph, which by the standards I had gotten to that point, was NASCAR like, but still quite controllable. When I finally got to that nice bend in the road {at a bridge of course for added drama} my car decided it was going strait no matter what I did. I didn't everything right again. Tapped the brakes, tried to roll against it, and what was worse than all of that was most of it was seeming to work because by the end of the slide, it was in such amazing slow motion that I could have drawn pictures of it. I was even noticeably happy that when I hit that curb in about 15 minutes, I am not going fast enough in the least to even flirt with going over the bridge. I finally hit the curb and bounced away from it about a foot at worst. Fortunately again I was at a point where there was no traffic, so I didn't have to get bounced around by oncoming traffic or the usual genius in an SUV tailgating you. I breathed a sigh of relief and started on my way again. Guess what?

The front end of the Cavalier was practically hopping up and down as it drove along, so I was thinking flat tire, and some things I'm not going to put in a rare G rated blog out of myself. I pulled over in a spot where the road looked wide enough and found the hubcap to be shredded and hanging off in one spot so I ripped it off and noted that the tire was perfectly fine. Again a sigh of relief and again I was driving a Compton Low Rider that hopped along the road. I continued along to work bouncing along because I was already late enough, and then went in to start my shift. Of course I still had to come out an hour later to drive my poor little Government Motors vehicle across the street.

Thump Thump Thump I went along being rather miserable that my problem didn't disappear like all the rest never seem to either. Of course my mind was seeing all of that money I saved for insurance and registrations sprouting little wings and flying away. I got out of my car across the street and looked at the tires to see that one was at an awfully strange angle. Oh great, that little love tap completely bent my axle at the best of circumstances. Needless to say the fact that I was able to hop the whole 45 minute drive home is reasonable evidence that it isn't the ball joint or something that would have made the wheel fly off. This is the only freaking car that my grandmother will drive so that means one thing. If I'm lucky I'll only be short the auto insurance and the registration fees without going into my credit cards again, because it is the only vehicle that I can't just leave in the driveway until I can afford to fix it. YAY Jeremy!

Can I just be honest here? These are those times when you just want to throw your hands in the air and scream that you just don't give a crap anymore. “I GIVE UP!” went through my mind quite a few times as I was hopping the whole way home. Of course this isn't an option, and it never is. I don't have the options that my wonderful ex-wife has of floating from house to house, refusing to take care of myself and demanding that others do it for me. Yeah Yeah Yeah .. childish of me to start throwing around others faults, but seriously, I am always one “Oh Crap” away from destitution, being the mother and the father to 3 kids, and it always comes down to that no matter what happens. I have no right to a piece of mind at any time, and YES I do want to throw my self on the floor and bang my rattle and demand things myself sometimes. I do everything in my power to do the right things, and the forces of evil do nothing but sit around and peck at every one of my faults. They delight in my failings, accidents, insecurities. I just don't get that option, and I probably never will. I have to do the right things, and I will never get credit for doing “most of the right things” because it's all or nothing. On a brighter note, I've been broke, and I only have to wait another year to get caught up for a few days! Someday I assume that the satisfaction of doing my best will set in, or so the psychiatrists tell me. ;8o)

Other Crap This Weirdo Publishes... The Crow's Nest {The Homepage of Jeremy Crow} Mental Notes & Random Musings {Daily Blog} Mental Rants & Political Rage {For Those That Like His Political Rantings} Mental Imagry & Random Perversion {Adult Stories .. Assume they are rated X} Itching For Coffee {Community Blog} Jeremy Crow on Twitter {For The Easily Amused} Blogaholics Anonymous {E-Mail Blogging Group}

Nothing that was printed here was intended to offend anyone, and if it did, screw ya, you begged for it. If you believe that there are some measures that can be taken to change me, then please feel free to pray for me, and while you are at it yourself, because you read this far, and if you hated every minute of it, then you are an idiot, not me, or the other people who like what I have to say! .. Jeremy

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All writings Copyright © 2009 & Beyond The Crows Nest

Tuesday, 9 February 2010

Still Sorrow

1. Dad continues on a cognitive decline. In spite of his own anguish (he is aware of his dementia),
he still remembers to send cards for holidays, birthdays, and anniversaries. As I bear witness to the crystallization and shattering of his brain, my heart breaks.

2. My mother called today talking about arrangements after her death. I have regrets. It is difficult even now for me to live with what could have been. I am frustrated at my own inability to do the correct thing-- to make the common gestures that society dictates.

3. Money worries can swallow up folks around me and make for a certain harshness. These are times of tough decisions and priorities. I must remain my own priority. When all is said and done and counted, we are all alone in our own skins. I have not been able to work since my car accident. I blame myself for these financial messes.

4. I directly requested that a couple of people refrain from publishing/perpetrating the latest "computer virus" HOAX in one of my second-life-is-trying-to-eat-me groups without checking to see if there was any truth to the latest circulating piece of crap e-mail and instant message "warning" us not to open any e-mail or attachment that says "Black in the White House." This is an old HOAX that has been around since the year 2000 in various forms. A simple check with snopes dot com reveals all.
Why is it that intelligent people get all giddy at the prospect of impending doom and then feel compelled to spread the word? I am sick to death of the irrationality of the co-inhabitants on this planet. This latest piece of crap is just one example.
My directness appears to be in conflict with expected web behavior. Am I supposed to beg folks to not engage in mindless clone behaviors or what? I don't get it.

5. I feel like cutting and running. Once again, the poet retreats to her lair with nothing for sustenance but her words.