"I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians.

Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." - Mahatma Gandhi


Florida, U.S.A.
December 31
I'm a divorced mom of one, a self-proclaimed cat-lady, and mildly misanthropic. At least in-person. I'm still feeling my way through this whole life thing, and realizing that I'm still growing into my own skin. I've taken to using this blog as a free therapy couch, it seems. If you don't like what I write, I'm a huge self-critic, so chances are you're in good company.


Theig86's Links

MARCH 5, 2013 2:01PM

the future keeps comin' on.

Rate: 6 Flag

I wish I could say that things are now going "bombastically" (circa 1996, I do believe) about this whole move and adaptation thing, but I'd be lying through my teeth.  I went to my mom's Tuesday night because the plugging of the whole and amazing amount of mothballs did nothing, and on top of that, the deadzone in my place decided to POP! and kill the remaining 75% of the power in the trailer AS I was working on filling the hole.  I called Mom and proceeded to have what can be described as a panic attack.  I tossed our stuff into a basket (stuff that'd get us by for the rest of the week), woke up my daughter, snatched the kitty and tossed us all in the car and peeled outta there.  I had another crying jag at work on Wednesday, so a savvy friend of mine called the real estate people, and they at least sent someone out to get the power back on.  However, the deadzone still existed, I soon found out.

 My daughter went to her father's this past weekend, so I took that opportunity to try and re-introduce myself to the place.  I went back up there, and this huge wave of gloom and just, blah, hit me as soon as I pried open the door.  I noticed the usual fixtures weren't working, and it took me a solid hour to get the water pump turned back on since it was literally wired ass-backwards from everything else.  I was unpacking a few things, just trying to make the place feel more like mine, when I walked into my bedroom.  "Ground-Zero" for rodents, as it were.  I saw the foam in the hole had pretty much held up, and I then walked over to push my hopechest to the foot of my bed, and stopped abruptly.

There was a new hole chewed in my wall, behind where the hopechest had been.  It was so voraciously chewed that the literal corner of the flooring was visible in the hole.  But was I going to let myself be scared away by that?  No.  I went outside, grabbed one of those insanely heavy concrete slabs, and shoved it against the hole.  "Take that, f*cker", I said aloud.  At that point, it was dusk.  I went out to unpack my tchotchkes.  It was dark by that point.  Pitch-black outside.  Anxious, I went back into my bedroom to tinker around on the laptop.  Try to distract myself.  I was going to make it there through the night, damnit to hell.  Then that's when I noticed it. Another hole.  I remember crying in frustration.  Called my mom, packed some more stuff, grabbed the  cat, and went back to Mom's place. 

The frustration was/is three-part:

1.) I don't like the feeling of having to live with my mom again when we are so incredibly different and she is overbearing but well-meaning, I guess.

2.) Even if the place were to get treated and have the power fixed and just, whatever, I feel almost as though I've got a version of PTSD from this experience. 

3.) I felt like I'd let my daughter down.  It was a huge deal for us to actually own a place.  She could paint her room whatever color.  We could get a dog.  We could get a trampoline.  I synonymized (is that a word?) these actions with owning our own place.


Realistically, we could have all of the things from #3.  What my daughter deserves above everything else is a happy mom, since that makes HER happy.  And none of this is making me happy.  I'm trying to decide how long I'll need/be willing to stay with my mom.  Ideally, through the end of July is what she'd like.  I don't think I can last that long.  For instance, she notified me yesterday as she saw me drinking low-fat soy milk that soy makes men gay.  Now if she sees a guy on t.v. that she thinks is gay, she calls him a "soy boy".  She said she read it online.  Newsflash:  If you have an opinion, if you search enough sites, you will find someone out there who will agree with you.  Of course, she's already hinted at me going to the church-based weight-loss support group.  I'm not anti-weight loss... at all... I'm just not into church.  She knows that.  I'm moving my stuff to Mom's this upcoming weekend.  I will have to thoroughly check to make sure nothing has rodent damage.  Otherwise, it's trash.  Mama don't play.

 So, right now my biggest things are:

1.) figure out how to break my lease.  I really don't feel like being stuck with having to pay thousands to someone who doesn't deserve my money, someone who saw this evidently ignorant single mom a mile away and took me for a ride.  Breaking leases in Florida is not for the faint of heart.

2.) I've got to survive the stay with my mom.  And determine where to live that won't be right in her backyard. 

3.) be ready for school when it starts this summer, and not emotionally eat myself into a circus tent-sized dress, since after staying with my mom for barely a week, I see where I get my horrible eating habits from.


I have to find my little bubble of contentedness (is THAT a word?) again.  I don't mind trailers at all, never have and never will.  Hell, it's part of my upbringing.  Now I've just learned what all I need to do with one before I move into another one.  With my income, they're pretty much all I can afford, but just because you're poor doesn't mean you have to be harrassed by little furry non-rent-payers.

Your tags:


Enter the amount, and click "Tip" to submit!
Recipient's email address:
Personal message (optional):

Your email address:


Type your comment below:
4th line down, "whole" is "hole"... thought something looked off. Thanks for that, Di :) lol
I actually left this comment yesterday, but alas it disappeared.

Any lease can be broken when you have primary family issues. I promise. Tell the landlord you will have to move your mom in with you and that may mean they have to make certain things handicapped accesible. That's the law and it is costly. Ramps, widening doors etc.
They only have to do hat if they refuse to end your lease early.

Take this with your mom as a sort of blessing. I promise you in years to come you will. Not now, but soon. Do you have ANY outside help?

And school, you have an outlet. Fast every couple nof days. May not be the most healthy thing, but it makes those binges easier to contend with.
Why do parents feel like they let their kids down when they do everything for them. It seems the most guilty parents are usually, the best parents.
@Di - Weird that it disappeared... OS is odd sometimes. I've called around to a couple of attorneys today. I don't have the money they're asking for, as I suspected. I just fought off the temptation to just call the real estate company itself and tell them... I guess... that there are serious issues with the property, and that i no longer wish to live there and want out of the lease, but with my luck they'll "fix" the issues and then I'll still be stuck. Mom says I should wait until I move out my stuff before I talk to them, in case they take the low road and go vandalize my belongings. nothing would surprise me. I am trying to view my time with her as a blessing... a very, very tricky walking-on-eggshells blessing, but a blessing. lol... trust me. School will help, hopefully. you'd think me being gone 12 hours a day would give me a break, but a break from what? that 12 hours involves commute and work. short-term fasting is an idea.

@Judith, I can't speak for all parents, but I know in my case, I have a "why else am I here?" attitude about life... she's my thing. my reason. and since I've had to work so much her entire life, I'm riddled with guilt and sadness as it is that I've missed out on so much of her, time I can't get back, that I just want to at least get the damn little things right. and I can't even get that right.

thank you ladies for commenting.
OMG You are living my life.
@Yvonne, you definitely have my condolences. Let us survive!
I live in Miami, breaking a lease is terrible in Florida.