Jesus fuck.... *siiigh*

I am home, yes.

I'm also fine.

But, man, whatta clusterfuck the last few hours have been,
My Gawd.

Now, I hafta get this all out so I can make sure I've got the pieces of this put together correctly, too.
But, the cool thing about this latest mess is that I already know what the pcture is supposed to be or is at least looking like it's gonna be (again), but... this time, it's a pretty one.

Thanks to poor Paul, who caught me at exactly the right time and got more than an earful about it (and I mean caught, as in called at the right time and CAUGHT me in my freefall at exactly the right time), I know that this latest overall picture is a good one, even if it is a Monet (all fucked up if yer too close to it), unlike that other picture I've been working on which looks more and more like the face of evil masquerading as mental illness or else one of the worst true cases of mental illness in the recorded annals of time.

When he called me, I couldn't see a difference between these two ever s'fucked up situations.

And, while I do need to finish that other one right soon, I want to say "Hi", so you'd know I made it and I need to get this out so I can see the picture it makes as a whole, lest I forget and someone around here gets...
drug off and shot.
Many times, even.
(And, I don't even have a gun.)
((As if that'd stop me...))

Anyway....
*rolls eyes and another sigh*

Let me tell y'all about the end of this "trip" (and I'm using that word heavy on the double entendre) before I finish that other one, okay?
(And, maybe it'd be better for my mind, in the long run, to think of this shit I'm about to relate not as "the end of my trip" as much as "the beginning of being back home". Sucks either way, but maybe this way is healthier... Paul? Ya think?)

We'll start this when I hit Pa.
I'd been yakking to Eric via radio since (goddamned, takes-too-long-to-drive-through, outta-change-the-friggin'-slogan-to "Virginia is for those with patience in Saintly proportions"...) Virginia, ick, and told him I was gonna stop by the Giant on the way home and get myself some of that kickass Chinese food they sell in there. I told him that.
He KNEW I was going to the Giant.
It's kinda important you remember that for a minute....

I go there, grab my shit and come on home.

I wasn't here an hour and half before I was in tears and such a rage all three guys took the fuck off outta here, back to work or to go build benches (George is doing that right now... building a bench), anything to get the fuck away from me.

Can't say I blame 'em.

I was beyond pissed at what I came home to.

Which can be summed up thusly: One dead cat and several "gone" kittens.
Oh and no cat food in the house, which I made perfectly clear MORE THAN ONCE, INCLUDING IN WRITTEN FORM was gonna be needed by Friday, at the latest.

(No, Paul... not even chewing back teeth as I type... just "annunciating"...
*grin*)

I get here and the house is clean. Very nice, sweet...
My roosters, the duck and the rabbit are outside. Okay... cool.
My cat herd is thinned. 'Scuse me? What?
Got rid of the anti-social kittens.... Hmmmm.... Okay, I guess, but...
Fuzz is dead and has been since the day before I left.

Fuck WHAT?

Got hit by a car because nobody can take a fuckin' the "CLUE" of my having said 8 bazillion times that he is NOT to be outside because, while he's the sweetest goddamned cat, he is also about as dense as... A GUY and stands in the middle of road alla time.

*heaving a sigh, still not chewing back teeth*

Then, it occurs to me that they knew this BEFORE they got rid of the additional kittens. (Seems weird, somehow, to refer to kitten who're gone as "additional"...)
That made me even madder.
How da fuck ya gonna get rid of MORE of my cats when you already know (and I don't) that one is dead?

Damn it.

THEN, I go to feed my still-a-bit-too-big-for-most-people herd of cats and...

Not one kibble of food in the house.

Fuckin' WHAT?!!?
Even more pissed....

But, what sent me into the stratosphere was what occured to me after I peeled OUT of here to BACK TO THE FUCKIN' STORE THAT I'D ALREADY BEEN TO ABOUT HALF AN HOUR BEFORE.

I realized that, misguided as these actions were, they were done with the...
oh, God, I can't even say it.
I'll puke...

The best... of....
intentions.

THAT, friends and neighbors, was IT.

After the way I've seen, heard, read, and witnessed that bullshit fuckin' excuse bandied about lately, I wanted to kill alla these dipshits, I really did.

From the moment that occured to me til Paul called and talked me down, my mind was racing off with that and all that it seemed to imply and the ghastly coincidences between this and that and oh, Lord... he'p us all.

I was thinking as I was driving (ugh) back to the stupid store (where, in case ya missed it, I coulda already BOUGHT the damned food the first time I was there, HAD I been informed that alla my saying it and the note were for naught and the cats had no food).

If mothafuckas would fuckin' LISTEN TO ME and do my shit the way I want my shit done WITH my shit, my stupid, sweet cat wouldn't be dead.

If mothafuckas had LISTENED TO ROB and done what he wanted at his blog the way he wanted it done (kept his "secrets", fucked off when told to, etc.)... if those assnuggets hadda listened when the night before I fuckin' TOLD her and a coupla others to back off and quit challenging him, maybe he wouldn't be dead either.

AND... most horrifying of all... both situations had that phrase "best of (goddamned) intentions" stuck to 'em.

Man, by the time I got back...
whooo... man.

There isn't even a word in the English (or any other) language for what I was.

But... then, Paul called.
*taking a big, deep breath again, as I simply type it*

I was already crying and I just blew alla this shit into his ear and he helped me... understand and see the difference between these TRUE "best intentions" and her's.

Then, he explained a few other things along the same lines about this current mess and, like I said, "talked me down".

By the time we hung up, I was really better.
George came in the room just in time to hear me telling Paul thank you and whatnot and as I hung up, he said "Paul?"

"yep... and boy, do y'all owe HIM big, now..." as I blew out air.

Since then, George and I talked and got somewhere with the conversation (for a switch) and he showed me the bench he's building and how he'd used a horseshoe that's special to me and he knows it, to "template" the design he's put on the feet of the bench and I've written this.

Feel LOTS better now still.

Need to also try to have the same or a very similar talk with Eric about this, but... not today.

Between my (over)reaction and his ingrained defense mechanisms, thanks to his BC, I need to just let it go for now and bring it up again in a few days, after he's convinced not only that he's gonna live but that's it's good to discuss it and that he's not being blamed.

And, I need to eat something before I jitter apart.

So, I'mina post this, eat, then try to finish the "trip" story.

'Kay?
Cool...

Back soon...

Peace
(And, I'm not gonna "pollute" all the wonderful emails and comments I've gotten by attaching them (or my responses to them) to this "angst" post, okay? I do have lots to say about 'em, but I'm gonna address them seperately from this. I just had to get this outta my way and let y'all know why I didn't post the second I got home and why "the rest of the story" might be kinda disjointed or distracted, if it even is.)

pee ess...
For the record, Paul believes that part of my reaction to this was delayed reaction to Rob's death. I believe that and that another part might've had something to do with me so completely containing myself and not striking out at the one person I wanted to so badly. But, yeah, Paul all but said he fully expected me to do this when I got home and had a minute, like anything coulda set it off. I think he's right... and the guys do to.

Posted by: Stevie at 04:14 PM

Comments

Posted by: Libby at July 02, 2006 04:35 PM (DGO1F)

2 "But, yeah, Paul all but said he fully expected me to do this when I got home and had a minute, like anything coulda set it off. I think he's right... and the guys do to."

Well, yeah but jeeeze! Very sorry about Fuzz. I have a dumbass cat, too, named Stinky. Sweetest cat in the wrold but he tends to get lost outside so we try not to let him out anymore. Glad yer home safely.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at July 02, 2006 05:28 PM (Ivf0d)

Posted by: Maeve at July 02, 2006 05:44 PM (b/7xM)

Posted by: Chablis at July 02, 2006 06:20 PM (tMoUV)

Posted by: Ruth at July 02, 2006 08:56 PM (kqTXB)

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