It is my home, my neighborhood, and my history. It is what I am and where I came from. Embarrassing? Yes Boring? Never

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

I WILL GET YOU AND YOUR LITTLE DOG TOO!!!

Another adventure this last two weeks, and unfortunately I have not had a moment to update! That is not entirely true, because there have been moments, but I have used those to catch my breath, take sedatives, and repeat my Mantra of "I will not kill my husband, I love my children, and there is no place like home."
The wicked witch, in a whirling form of maniacal control, had me working 10 hour days during the week because this is the 'slow' season and she wants the work up to date which has not happened since the beginning of time. It is too much, but despite the facts of the situation it is her call and I am just the 'kid in pigtails' and do as I am told. But I started having chest pains and panic attacks after about 2 weeks of being screamed at by unhappy customers and wrist cramping hours of typing. I took 1/2 a day, lounged around to try to regain some strength, called the doctor who again suggested I need some serious time off of work. Although a pleasant idea - the bills still need paid - so I made a choice to use my vacation and asked for a week, rather spur of the moment. The wicked witch cackled a big retched laugh and told me NO. My chest began to constrict and for a moment I thought I was about to pass out. While the winged monkeys danced at my misfortune, I continued to pluck at my keyboard.
Then the night mare hurricane began with one very very long distant call - from Kuwait, hysterical, in need of help and in a complete panic. Our soldiers family had imploded and the Army plucked him from the war zone, put him on a plane home to resolve it and get back immediately. Seems his biological mother (This should sum her up - she bought her sons tattoos for their 15th birthdays and moves every year to escape rent and rumor) who he had paid to fly down and assist his one eyed (see last post for detail) wife with the children. The dingbat had now abandoned them, the kids were split between neighbors. Our soldier was unravelling, his courage tested to the brink, his anger at his mother only equal to his irritation that his wife can't handle anything, and his fear that his gorgeous babies will be damaged by this hurricane of drama. As the wives of the other soldiers, who were watching the children, were getting frustrated with his wife and the situation. What could I do, he was begging..... (Note - the role of the scare crow will be played by my husband - who was dismantling the pool deck while I was talking the lion soldier down from the panic tree, the love of my life managed to pull the pry bar back full force, when it blasted loose and cracked him directly in the face gashing him so deeply blood was pouring out enough to flood a bath towel. He was running around trying to get my attention and all I did was tell him to 'SHHHH'. He had almost pierced his nose and sliced straight down to his lip. Yet another totally avoidable scar.)
The doctor barely let me explain the first stage of my latest when he pinned a note to put me off work for two weeks and gave me pages of prescriptions and told me to relax. Relaxation to me is rare word and I have just officially confirmed that I may in fact be completely crazy,(my poor children), but my boss got the call, we packed our bags, finished our taxes, left my little dogs in good hands, and map quested the yellow brick road!

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