Good morning!
I'm drinking the coffee that my son made and that means I'll be totally wired in moments. I don't know why that kid feels the need to make the coffee so strong, but he gets irritated if I add more water so I waited for him to leave and then added about 6 cups. That should make it close to normal.
My phone is ringing but it's far too early to answer it. I don't answer the phone before 9 AM or after 9 PM unless I know who it is and like them. I don't know who that was. I really shouldn't speak to anyone this early in the morning, I'm just too crabby. I may sound pleasant on the blog, but trust me, I'm not quite the Queen of Nice this soon after I get up.
Even my father has been the object of my wrath for waking me up in a rude way. Sunday morning, I was sleeping on his couch (the only time I could watch TV was when the nut lady was asleep in the middle of the night, even if she did wake up, she wouldn't have woken my father up to rat me out) and he woke me up with his FOOT! I can't believe he did that. If someone takes their foot and shakes you with it, you wouldn't be very pleased, I assure you. He wouldn't do that to just anyone. I guess parents always think of you as a kid who won't talk back to them but at 7 AM, if there's a foot on my hip, someone's gonna be the victim of my sharp tongue and I'm too old to let the fact that it was my father shut me up. Then he told me to come back when I'm in a better mood. Yeah, lose the foot, old man.
I can't imagine being in such a good mood that a foot would be a welcome site the first thing in the morning. I let him have it for that stupid stunt. Ordinarily, I just avoid human contact until the second cup of coffee...but that morning I was surrounded by AARP members as soon as I opened my eyes.
Before I filed for divorce, I took all of my art to Florida because I didn't want it to be in the state when the judge said, "Don't take any of the good shit out of the state." Then, my father took a few boxes of my shit down there whenever he would come here. I went through some of those boxes when I was there and I had forgotten how much stuff I have. I've got to get it all soon, my father is one of those people who would throw away a box of good stuff because he needs the closet space. (My other ex did that too. Once he tossed my box of concert t-shirts in the trash. I had been saving them from the 70's. There were bootleg stuff and some really cool shirts like The Who, The Stones, Sprinsgteen, a LOT of Springsteen. He just threw it all away. I could have choked him for that.) Anyway, I was going to move down to Florida and I wanted to get a head start on the knick-knacks and other stupid stuff. I have an entire Garage Sale down at his place. Unless the nut lady leaves that condo...there's no way I'm moving down there. Maybe if she gets too sick to be annoying, but right now she is far too alert and mean. And, if she bought it, you never forget it because she will tell you 7 times a day. That's why I couldn't watch the $5,000 large screen TV, she bought it. But she put it in the living room and that's where people watch TV. So, the other one is in the spare room without cable and I couldn't even get reception.
I don't watch too much TV, but I do like to watch some things. Like maybe the news, Seinfeld and old Cary Grant movies.
It's worse than that, really. Even if I watch something that she watches, I have to be in the room with her and she NEVER shuts up...ever. And they're the same stupid questions every single time. Even after I TELL her that I'm sick of talking about my sister, my ex-boyfriend or one of her never ending health problems, she doesn't stop. She just prefaces the questions by saying, "I don't mean to touch on a sore subject, but what do you think about....(enter any one of 4 subjects here)." If she can remember that I don't want to talk about it, why can't she remember that it's FUCKING RUDE???
Alzheimer's comes in many forms...hers seems to be the kind where you totally forget consideration for anyone but yourself. She never had much to begin with, now it's all gone. You can pretty much tell by the fact that my father is the only person who cares. There are only 3 people in her will, one has 7 kids and some grandchildren, and a few of them live with her. The daughter doesn't care. When her mother offered to fly to Denver to visit her, she responded, "Sure, we can meet for lunch while you're here." That leaves my father. There isn't a soul in the world who cares about her because she's never cared for anyone herself. You have to be in her will to care, and not everyone in that thing cares.
I'm not only NOT in the will, but I do get her stupid cat. She lets the dumb thing get up on the counters and tables and that just drives me insane. Once while she was here, she fed the cat on my kitchen table. I FREAKED. My cat wouldn't think of jumping on a counter (at least not right in front of me) but her's is very comfortable walking all over food serving places after leaving the litter box. A nice squirt gun cures that problem. That's nothing new, by the way, before she got sick she always had 2 or 3 cats that wandered all over everything. It's all my father can do to keep her from adopting another cat now. She's too crazy to stop, she'll keep asking for more and more so even if he did get another one, she would start over again. I'm sure she won't stop until she has 3...after that it's a coin toss. Anyway, I'd get them too and if they don't come with trust funds, they won't last long on my tables.
If I were her, before I got so totally brain fried that I couldn't do it, I would get all of my money and start traveling around the world. I'd gamble in Monte Carlo, I'd dance at the fountain at the Palace of Versailles and yodel wherever the hell they yodel. I sure as hell wouldn't buy a big ass TV and sit in front of it every single day chain smoking, which, by the way, drives my father nuts. No one is allowed to smoke in the condo but she won't stop. She simply ignores him when he says anything. When my grandkids are here, she doesn't get away with that shit. So, she is somewhat educable. Anyway, were I she, I would be out somewhere, spending all of my cash.
I think I'd like to go out somewhere and speak with an accent again. Actually, I just need to go out and have a bit more fun. I usually wait for the weather to get nicer but it doesn't show any signs of doing that any time soon. The February that I moved here it was in the 90's. I thought I would be warm. But I'm sitting here in my trusty long john's and flannel jammies with knee socks that don't match. I look like my mother. Once when I was 11, she brought my lunch money to me because I had forgotten it. She was wearing a green plaid coat with her nightgown hanging out the bottom of it and my father's socks around her ankles, slippers and curlers. Ladies always wore curlers back then. (And for some reason, they wrapped their heads with toilet paper) Anyway, some kid asked if that was my mother and I said, "Nope, it's a poor lady that we pay to run errands." I've had a lot of guilt over the years about that stupid comment.
Well, I think I'll act like the house is a mess and clean it up. I may just have to go back to work sometime soon so I should call them too.
See ya later,
Meg
I'm drinking the coffee that my son made and that means I'll be totally wired in moments. I don't know why that kid feels the need to make the coffee so strong, but he gets irritated if I add more water so I waited for him to leave and then added about 6 cups. That should make it close to normal.
My phone is ringing but it's far too early to answer it. I don't answer the phone before 9 AM or after 9 PM unless I know who it is and like them. I don't know who that was. I really shouldn't speak to anyone this early in the morning, I'm just too crabby. I may sound pleasant on the blog, but trust me, I'm not quite the Queen of Nice this soon after I get up.
Even my father has been the object of my wrath for waking me up in a rude way. Sunday morning, I was sleeping on his couch (the only time I could watch TV was when the nut lady was asleep in the middle of the night, even if she did wake up, she wouldn't have woken my father up to rat me out) and he woke me up with his FOOT! I can't believe he did that. If someone takes their foot and shakes you with it, you wouldn't be very pleased, I assure you. He wouldn't do that to just anyone. I guess parents always think of you as a kid who won't talk back to them but at 7 AM, if there's a foot on my hip, someone's gonna be the victim of my sharp tongue and I'm too old to let the fact that it was my father shut me up. Then he told me to come back when I'm in a better mood. Yeah, lose the foot, old man.
I can't imagine being in such a good mood that a foot would be a welcome site the first thing in the morning. I let him have it for that stupid stunt. Ordinarily, I just avoid human contact until the second cup of coffee...but that morning I was surrounded by AARP members as soon as I opened my eyes.
Before I filed for divorce, I took all of my art to Florida because I didn't want it to be in the state when the judge said, "Don't take any of the good shit out of the state." Then, my father took a few boxes of my shit down there whenever he would come here. I went through some of those boxes when I was there and I had forgotten how much stuff I have. I've got to get it all soon, my father is one of those people who would throw away a box of good stuff because he needs the closet space. (My other ex did that too. Once he tossed my box of concert t-shirts in the trash. I had been saving them from the 70's. There were bootleg stuff and some really cool shirts like The Who, The Stones, Sprinsgteen, a LOT of Springsteen. He just threw it all away. I could have choked him for that.) Anyway, I was going to move down to Florida and I wanted to get a head start on the knick-knacks and other stupid stuff. I have an entire Garage Sale down at his place. Unless the nut lady leaves that condo...there's no way I'm moving down there. Maybe if she gets too sick to be annoying, but right now she is far too alert and mean. And, if she bought it, you never forget it because she will tell you 7 times a day. That's why I couldn't watch the $5,000 large screen TV, she bought it. But she put it in the living room and that's where people watch TV. So, the other one is in the spare room without cable and I couldn't even get reception.
I don't watch too much TV, but I do like to watch some things. Like maybe the news, Seinfeld and old Cary Grant movies.
It's worse than that, really. Even if I watch something that she watches, I have to be in the room with her and she NEVER shuts up...ever. And they're the same stupid questions every single time. Even after I TELL her that I'm sick of talking about my sister, my ex-boyfriend or one of her never ending health problems, she doesn't stop. She just prefaces the questions by saying, "I don't mean to touch on a sore subject, but what do you think about....(enter any one of 4 subjects here)." If she can remember that I don't want to talk about it, why can't she remember that it's FUCKING RUDE???
Alzheimer's comes in many forms...hers seems to be the kind where you totally forget consideration for anyone but yourself. She never had much to begin with, now it's all gone. You can pretty much tell by the fact that my father is the only person who cares. There are only 3 people in her will, one has 7 kids and some grandchildren, and a few of them live with her. The daughter doesn't care. When her mother offered to fly to Denver to visit her, she responded, "Sure, we can meet for lunch while you're here." That leaves my father. There isn't a soul in the world who cares about her because she's never cared for anyone herself. You have to be in her will to care, and not everyone in that thing cares.
I'm not only NOT in the will, but I do get her stupid cat. She lets the dumb thing get up on the counters and tables and that just drives me insane. Once while she was here, she fed the cat on my kitchen table. I FREAKED. My cat wouldn't think of jumping on a counter (at least not right in front of me) but her's is very comfortable walking all over food serving places after leaving the litter box. A nice squirt gun cures that problem. That's nothing new, by the way, before she got sick she always had 2 or 3 cats that wandered all over everything. It's all my father can do to keep her from adopting another cat now. She's too crazy to stop, she'll keep asking for more and more so even if he did get another one, she would start over again. I'm sure she won't stop until she has 3...after that it's a coin toss. Anyway, I'd get them too and if they don't come with trust funds, they won't last long on my tables.
If I were her, before I got so totally brain fried that I couldn't do it, I would get all of my money and start traveling around the world. I'd gamble in Monte Carlo, I'd dance at the fountain at the Palace of Versailles and yodel wherever the hell they yodel. I sure as hell wouldn't buy a big ass TV and sit in front of it every single day chain smoking, which, by the way, drives my father nuts. No one is allowed to smoke in the condo but she won't stop. She simply ignores him when he says anything. When my grandkids are here, she doesn't get away with that shit. So, she is somewhat educable. Anyway, were I she, I would be out somewhere, spending all of my cash.
I think I'd like to go out somewhere and speak with an accent again. Actually, I just need to go out and have a bit more fun. I usually wait for the weather to get nicer but it doesn't show any signs of doing that any time soon. The February that I moved here it was in the 90's. I thought I would be warm. But I'm sitting here in my trusty long john's and flannel jammies with knee socks that don't match. I look like my mother. Once when I was 11, she brought my lunch money to me because I had forgotten it. She was wearing a green plaid coat with her nightgown hanging out the bottom of it and my father's socks around her ankles, slippers and curlers. Ladies always wore curlers back then. (And for some reason, they wrapped their heads with toilet paper) Anyway, some kid asked if that was my mother and I said, "Nope, it's a poor lady that we pay to run errands." I've had a lot of guilt over the years about that stupid comment.
Well, I think I'll act like the house is a mess and clean it up. I may just have to go back to work sometime soon so I should call them too.
See ya later,
Meg
posted by Meg Kelso | 5:01 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home