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ramblings of a schizo
I've given in and agreed to get the windows replaced on the house.
We were supposed to get an estimate today at 1PM but no one ever showed up. When we tried to get hold of someone, we got transferred 4 times to 3 different states. Finally they had to figure what was up and call us back. Long story short, they fucked up. And we didn't even get an apology. They wanted to reschedule, but we told them we had to think about it.
It totally ruined my day. I'm still really stressed out about it. First I spent all morning stressing about having a stranger in the house. Hiding things, even totally normal, legal things, just because I was so stressed out. Thinking up some totally generic name to tell them was my first name so I wouldn't have to listen to the usual fucking bullshit I get when someone asks me my name.
It's Mary. From now on, when a fucking nobody like a salesperson asks me my name, it's going to be Mary. The most generic name in the world.
I can't even tell strangers my real name without getting shit. Let alone have them in my house. My house with several organs and a piano where most people would have a TV and a Couch.
I feel like a fool putting any more money into this house, but I just can't listen to my husband freaking out about it anymore. And yes, we do need new windows. The ones we have are original. As in, 109 years old. I have to tell myself that all new windows will help the house sell, and in the meantime, it will help with heating/ cooling as well as noise and pollution.
My brain can't process logic right now. We can't even get a motherfucking contract fucker to come to our house. It really made me angry to not even get an apology. I'm sick of hearing that “these things happen” like that makes it OK. It's NOT OK.
Our car is still buried under about 16 inches of snow, and we have only been able to shovel out ¼ of the driveway. Every store in my neighborhood within walking distance is either closing, or turning into something else. They didn't pick up our garbage this week so now we have to stockpile 2 weeks in the little cans. My stomach hurts. I'm drinking too much coffee.
I'm pissed because I've told my brother all about our situation here. How I can barely support myself, let alone myself and my husband and the cat because I'm fucking crazy. How the neighbor shoots at us. How the cops don't do anything. How we need to get out of here.
But, he's in no hurry to clear out my parents house and let us move in down there. He hasn't touched anything since I was down there last summer. He said we could move in whenever we want, but my husband thinks that he is just saying that and he just can't say no to me.
I can't rely on anyone for anything. I can't even rely on myself. I'm getting mindfucked by everyone in every situation for everything all the time.
I feel trapped. No matter what I do, it's a trap. It is all leading to the same big death trap.
Jane. I'll tell them my name is Jane. As in Jane Doe.
DOA.
Or maybe Mary Jane. As in Mary Jane Potdealer.
HA.
9:31 PM - Wednesday, Feb. 27, 2019
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