So begins 2 weeks alone...

Today is the day the spousal unit leaves for two weeks.
I'm not sure how I feel about this.
On one hand I'm a bit excited about two weeks "to myself."
On the other hand I'm nervous about two weeks as a single parent.

But it will be over too soon, and I'll find myself wishing I'd spent the time differently and gotten more things done that are difficult to get done when everyone is home.

Work is not going well.
There's just too much to talk about there, too much to say...  but when the boss doesn't care that the Office Manager is creating a hostile work environment...  what are you gonna do?  When one has been told to "not complain about anything or anyone" how is anything going to be fixed?

The answer to both of those questions is "find a new job."  Once the spousal unit returns from his sojourn to the future I'll be stepping up the search and firing off my resume like I'm unemployed.  I've reserved the right to quit - on the spot - with our without a new job, if things get too bad.

That two hour long panic attack I had last week resulted in rumors about my having troubles at home.  No one has asked me, no one has confirmed this, the assumption is being made, someone started the rumor, and it's made its way around the clinic.  The best part?  The only reason I'm even aware of this heinous defamation is because the one person who has been forbidden to speak to me told me.

So many labor board violations it's not even funny.

The spawn and I have many plans for the two weeks that it will be just the two of us.  We'll camp out on the air mattress in the living room and watch movies before bed.  He's going to be very sick on Monday and unable to go to school.  We're going to the movies, out to dinner and even have the pleasure of attending a baseball game.  He'll get to spend time with two close family friends and both of my parents as well.

Today I have a list of things to do, and a small stack of other things to do on top of the list...  it's kind of sad when your list has be found by completing the stack of tasks first.  But it's honestly the only way I can make sure all the things get done.  Stack them on top of the list and dig for it.

All the fucking great things

You know what's fucking great?

I'll tell you.

Getting sick as fuck the day after you get home from vacation.
When your spouse doesn't care that you're sick... until you flat refuse to do a god damned thing and then they're only mad because they have to do dishes.
When your boss allows favoritism, sexism and who the fuck knows what else kill morale... and employees start leaving like fleas on a drowning rat.
When someone you used to respect commits a felony - on camera.
Coughing.
Coughing is fucking awesome.
Being sick for so long post vacation that you've been without weed for so long that all your joints are starting to non-function due to pain and the nerves are firing off at random times more and more frequently and more and more intensely every day and every attempt to medicate leaves you coughing and crying because you HURT TOO BADLY TO CURL INTO A FETAL POSITION.
Have I mentioned how fucking awesome coughing is?
Coughing is the BEST!!!
Waiting 2 weeks to get the food you're craving - that's fucking great.


So I've been great.
Just fucking great.
But I think I've almost beat this cold and although it was pretty grim for a couple days I never did lose my voice.  An over-abundance of caution and extra dose of FUCK THIS GOD DAMNED PAIN I SWEAR TO GOD AFTER 20 YEARS YOU'D THINK I'D BE USED TO THIS SHIT means I've not developed a URI or pneumonia so that's amazing.
I need to pluck my eyebrows, shave the AMAZING amount of hair off my upper lip...  or give in and to into public in drag - can I pass?  Can I pass?

The answer to that question is YES.  YES I CAN PASS WITHOUT EVEN REALLY TRYING AND IT FREAKS PEOPLE THE FUCK OUT.

Come to terms with it.
Genderqueer and here to stay but don't, oh dear gods don't tell my husband because he'll deny it and get offended and THEN HE'LL GET PISSED OFF!!!!  Oh what the fuck did I marry?

My ten year old spawn literally asked me today why I didn't divorce his dad?
I had to tell him that I do love the fucking asshole, but it's mostly financial.  I don't want to spend my life working my ass off... and that may be selfish but I enjoy spending time with my kid and have no desire to turn him into a latchkey, move hundreds of miles away from my entire family so I can afford to live... cause where we at right now it wouldn't happen and we'd be living in the car...  the car I wouldn't be able to pay insurance on so I couldn't drive and...  yes.  I do love my husband but sometimes I wonder myself...

WHY AM I HERE?

He ignored me while I was sick.
I asked for things and he never got them for me EVEN THOUGH I WAS SICK...

The best, or worst really depending on your point of view...  the best was that on Tuesday I asked for 2 things for the spawn's lunch.  I ASKED FOR TWO THINGS FOR OUR CHILD'S LUNCH.  Not for me, for our kid....  and he didn't get them.  He forgot.  He forgot even though he went to two other places after he came home.  He forgot even though he could have gone out and gotten them at any point...  he forgot on Wednesday too...  and Thursday he forgot and by Friday it was a fucking moot point because the spawn and I were making due and it was all good but the whole fucking point is that if you tell me to ask you for something when I need it...  and I ASK FOR SOMETHING FOR OUR CHILD and you fucking ignore me...  THEN WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DUDE???  Saturday he asked if I still needed him to pick those things up... those things for the child's SCHOOL LUNCH THAT I ASKED FOR ON TUESDAY.

No.
No I didn't need them.
By this point I'd gotten paid, and would be going grocery shopping the next day.
So no.
I got them myself.
Thanks.
But no.

WHY AM I HERE?
I didn't want to have a kid.
I'm a parent.
I didn't want to get married.
I'm a spouse.
I didn't want to buy a house.
My name is on a fucking mortgage.

I'm living someone else's dream...
...and they wonder why I'm depressed.