Small Town Trap

With Dreams of Breaking Out

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

I hate my life right now

Mother. FUCKER. I am so pissed.

Now we're down to no cars at all. Seeing that I live on a freaking FARM, that is no good at all. Son of a BITCH. I wish I could post pictures so everyone could see how totaled my poor beastly Intrepid is now, because a stupid deer ran out in front of us and Nick was going too fast to stop so he swerved, and it rolled. Three times. The kids don't have a scratch on them, thank goodness, but Nick blew a .10 so he got a DUI. With the kids in the car. He's banged up, and I'm a head to toe bruise with a lovely bloody head injury to boot.

Of course, we have no medical insurance. Of course, we only had liability on the car because it's ten years old. Of course, it's Lukas's BIRTHDAY today and all his presents were in the car.

What doesn't kill you doesn't make you stronger. It makes you bitter and cold and it wears you down until you don't want to get out of bed but you have to because your kids are too little to fend for themselves so you sit in front of the computer and type it all out just to have visual evidence of how pathetic you are and you wish you could have a drink but it's only eleven thirty in the morning and besides, drinking started all this bullshit in the first place and shouldn't this be a sign to quit? so you instead take some tranquilizers (so tranquil in my head now) and sit in your rocking chair staring at a book but not reading a word.

I quit.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Sorry.

I've been incommunicado for a week or two now. I'm digging myself a nice hole to hibernate in or some shit. I don't know. I did finally hook up with some people down here and I've been going out a little, but of course that only causes trouble. Seems I'm a bad influence on grown women. Either that or I'm being badly influenced and I need to watch myself. Rrrrr. I really hate people.

What else? Uh, the kids broke another window. Nick has started going out a lot so I never have anyone to talk sense with me. (There are only so many times I can hear a three-year-old explain to me the conversation he had with his friend Camden or Carson or Madison or whatever without my brain melting. Especially a three-year-old who's not so much for the pronouns.) If I see one more mother fucking ladybug there's gonna be trouble. If my kids don't get in bed and stay there, same thing. Yeah trouble.

Other than that, I'm just wondering what the hell I'm doing.