fresh hell
Jul. 29th, 2008 09:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sereneWhat a fucking day. I would say I want a do-over, but I don't have the energy to do this one over.
Tomorrow, no one's allowed to call me to break up their arguments. No one's allowed to suspect they've had a heart attack. No one's allowed to tell me no, or be mean to me in any way. Is. That. Understood?
It began when my mother called to cry on me at 8am because she was getting ready to tell Munchkin The Elder that since he's skipped school two days in a row and is not doing what he needs to do, he needs to move out. (He's eighteen.) I basically told her she had every right to draw her boundaries where she drew them, and that if I were in her situation, I'd give him a move-out date of a month or so in the future, then see if he took it as a wakeup call. She liked that idea.
Then I spent a fair amount of time talking to *him*, explaining that my mother has no obligation to be his unpaid maid and sugar momma while he plays video games all day, skips school, and doesn't help around the house. I also painted a picture for him of how good he has it, and how much more annoying sleeping on a park bench can be than having to get up and go to school in the morning.
Back on the phone with mom after she gave him the ultimatum.
Back on the phone with the Munchkin to give him a pep talk.
Back on the phone with mom -- they're working it out and he's going to try harder and go to school. And oh, by the way, she thinks she had a mini heart attack yesterday. MOM!!! Call the doctor. Go to the doctor.
"Well, I am a little worried, or I wouldn't have mentioned it."
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someotherguy took video of me wagging my finger at her, and we sent it to her cellphone.
She saw a doctor at 6pm, and she's fine. EKG clean, come back if it happens again.
Oh, and two out of three neighbors think renting their storage room to me forwtfpotatoes is a great idea; the third one doesn't want to give up his storage space. His prerogative, and they're going to meet about it again on Thursday, but it's not looking good.
And the replacement roomba isn't here yet. Ditto the batteries forsomeotherguy's birthday blimp.
And I'm cranky.
Which beats teary and defeated, which is how I was a few hours ago, right?
Anyway. I would say I'm done whining, but I'm SO not. Still, I'll go do the rest of my whining out of your eyesight for a while.
Tomorrow, no one's allowed to call me to break up their arguments. No one's allowed to suspect they've had a heart attack. No one's allowed to tell me no, or be mean to me in any way. Is. That. Understood?
It began when my mother called to cry on me at 8am because she was getting ready to tell Munchkin The Elder that since he's skipped school two days in a row and is not doing what he needs to do, he needs to move out. (He's eighteen.) I basically told her she had every right to draw her boundaries where she drew them, and that if I were in her situation, I'd give him a move-out date of a month or so in the future, then see if he took it as a wakeup call. She liked that idea.
Then I spent a fair amount of time talking to *him*, explaining that my mother has no obligation to be his unpaid maid and sugar momma while he plays video games all day, skips school, and doesn't help around the house. I also painted a picture for him of how good he has it, and how much more annoying sleeping on a park bench can be than having to get up and go to school in the morning.
Back on the phone with mom after she gave him the ultimatum.
Back on the phone with the Munchkin to give him a pep talk.
Back on the phone with mom -- they're working it out and he's going to try harder and go to school. And oh, by the way, she thinks she had a mini heart attack yesterday. MOM!!! Call the doctor. Go to the doctor.
"Well, I am a little worried, or I wouldn't have mentioned it."
someotherguy took video of me wagging my finger at her, and we sent it to her cellphone. She saw a doctor at 6pm, and she's fine. EKG clean, come back if it happens again.
Oh, and two out of three neighbors think renting their storage room to me for
wtfpotatoes is a great idea; the third one doesn't want to give up his storage space. His prerogative, and they're going to meet about it again on Thursday, but it's not looking good.And the replacement roomba isn't here yet. Ditto the batteries for
someotherguy's birthday blimp. And I'm cranky.
Which beats teary and defeated, which is how I was a few hours ago, right?
Anyway. I would say I'm done whining, but I'm SO not. Still, I'll go do the rest of my whining out of your eyesight for a while.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-30 11:32 am (UTC)