Wednesday, April 08, 2009

I am sick to my stomach....

Not like I don't have enough stress in my life as it is, I mean I come home from another work night embedded in my surreal 120 hour 7 days a week work week (mostly for favor and not for pay) and hope to have a nice little chill out meal, maybe watch an episode of "Lost". Not so much to ask for right?

I'm greeted by the girl of my dreams, love of my life lady whom lately it seems like as if I see her as much as I did when I was in Miami working and she was in NY. When asked how she was she sadly replied "I'm sick and tired". She then proceeds to tell me about how Megan hoodwinked her, yet again, and disappeared for the night leaving Elenore sad and upset. Tragic, but pretty ordinary around here.

So here it is around midnight, I pour myself a whiskey and microwave my dinner. I have my drink, eat my dinner, about five minutes into that... the girl of my dreams, love of my life lady whom lately it seems like as if I see her as much as I did when I was in Miami working and she was in NY announces that's she's off to bed. I kiss her, smile and say something silly about maybe having lunch on Sunday.

So I'm left to my own. "Lost" is a show I can't quite understand. Every time it starts to get cool, it goes back to this happy, feel good shit that really pisses me off. All the characters were so bad assed before they were "Lost" and after the plane crashed they became a bunch of hand holding, butterfly kissing pussies!

So here I am an hour later, trying to enjoy the little bit of intrigue that "Lost" has to offer and the home phone starts ringing...

I pause my rather uninspiring episode, roll my eyes and get up to check the caller id and see who's calling the house at 1 am in the morning. Thinking it will be one of Megan's usual suspects, Drew, Krista, Sara with Megan on the other side saying how sorry she is to disappoint Elenore again and how she'd be home in 5 minutes.

I get to the phone with only enough time before the call goes to voicemail to see "Out of area 516-..." on the caller id. I'm like huh? Suddenly expecting to hear a doctor leave me a message about my Mom being in intensive care. Nope!

Instead I am greeted by the slurred, menacing, drunken voice of Gloria. Making her usual threats that if I don't call her she will have me arrested and thrown in jail because she has a "certificate" for my arrest. She then proceeds to recite our home address her in Pueblo for punctuation. Then my cell phone starts blowing up with calls from a "restricted" number. After that barrage the home phone starts ringing again and there's a new surly message carefully reciting our address again and spewing more threats.

3 a.m. I hear rustling in the kitchen. It's Megan who plays the messages and then proceeds to talk about how insane Gloria sounds. How ironic. Though I must say that Meg is a whole lot nicer form of crazy than Gloria.

My knee is worthless at this point. I have a terrible headache, a backache, a stomach ache, my fingers feel as if they are 2000 years old and I am sick and tired as well. I work countless, thankless hours only for the hope of good reterns. Now Gloria wants to stir it up.

I've had it...


Blogger Bug said...

damn! your life sounds about as fun as mine these days.

2:09 PM  

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