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My job, is made of suck.
Everyone says this, but mine really does.
I've had days where I was doing nothing but scrubbing shit (actual shit, as in fecal matter with pieces of undigested food and the stench from hell) off of someone's ass all day long. Or cleaning shit off the floor. Or dodging getting hit or bit or scratched or smacked.
I work my shift.
I go in on my days off if they need me (ON TOP OF A FULL TIME SCHOOL SCHEDULE)

And when I request the weekend off, I get told "eh, probably not" because we're short staffed by one. But! Another worker can take a week off of work in the middle of the month because she asked for it off. This same worker told me, flat out, not to expect her to offer to take one of the nights I want off, because it's her night off too.

I am going out of town to see my fiance, who I only get to see once a month if we're lucky, and I asked two months ago for that weekend off.

But probably not.

I don't try to be like this. Honest I don't.

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You ever want to rub someone's face off on the sidewalk for no reason other than they did something in the past? Brandon is best friends with a woman he used to date. They dated two years ago, it ended badly, and save for one occasion over a year ago, they haven't had physical contact like that since.
I'm totally okay with them being friends. I even like her and am friends with her, because she's my kind of people. I just keep the knowledge they used to do the naked tango together in a separate part of my brain and I can deal with that.
But when it's brought up in conversation they used to get naked and how often they'd get naked, either by someone else or when Brandon is retelling a story, I want to bash her face in until brain matter is painting the room.
Brandon does not understand how I am perfectly okay with them being friends and I still have moments where I want to shove a railroad spike through her eye. I've tried explaining it has nothing to do with her, or him, or anything other than he's mine and by God, I don't share.
Then Man I Used to Fuck came up. I don't have another name for him, so we'll go with MIUtF for short. He's in the military and is going to be back in our hometown over Christmas. MIUtF and I will probably hang out, as that is what friends do. And while he is firmly in the "used to fuck" category and not going to ever again be in the "plan to fuck" schedule, Brandon has an issue with it. Which I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND. But come on, do you really think I'm going to wreck a good thing for someone who had a chance with me and GAVE IT UP, only to realize later THAT I'M GODDAMN FUCKING AMAZING? He actually called to tell me that he'd made a mistake in picking women, and that comments and posts on FB that he knows are aimed at Brandon make him jealous. Not my goddamn problem fucker, you cocked up and now you can live with it.
But the fight ensued after that, and it ended when I basically said everything his ex's (who have cheated on him) said... which made me feel bad.
How is it that I feel bad after a fight that wasn't an actual fight? There was no yelling, no screaming, no throwing of anything, no slamming doors...

Stop Crying. It's a Splinter not an Amputation.

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Sorry for flaking the last couple of weeks. I've been a bit sidelined between the kids in school, home schooling my daughter, work, family, etc.

This morning I think I might have scared the hell out of my husband. A tough thing to do considering we've been together for 16 years. It really came out of the blue and without giving a really long story, I might have blown up a bit over something that appeared small.

My mother's nephew is married to the owner of the company my husband works for. The girls and I refer to her (cousin's wife) as P.T. as not only does daddy own the company, but she works along side my husband as well.

She had the nerve to complain about my mother to my husband. My mother is in very tight with my cousin's sister (in fact, it caused a huge falling out between brother and sister) as well as their mother and grandmother. So, when grandmother was in the hospital my mother showed up to offer support to my female cousin, her mother, and aunt. My male cousin and his wife P.T. showed up at the hospital and were apparently deeply offended by my mother's presence and so moved to the far end of the hallway so that, as P.T. put it, my cousin wouldn't "do anything" to my mother.

As much as I love knowing people see my mother for the conniving, manipulative twat she is... I also have a big problem with THEM being so offended by her mere existence. You see, my mother really hasn't done ANYTHING to them. Certainly not like she has to me or my family. I'm sorry, but causing a little tiff between you and your sister (which was brewing anyway since sis had a tiff going with daddy and you love kissing daddy's ass) is no where near say... harassing your daughter at school, harassing your son at school, hitting on your husband, or attempting to sweet-talk your husband into having you committed to a mental institution against your will. Serious shit, unbelievable, even to me, every time I read it or think about it. Regardless, if anyone has the right to have their knickers in a serious twist it's me, not my husband or his stupid twat faced wife, who, by the way, my mother would eat for lunch. That's not defending my mom, that's just telling you how stupid P.T. is to even begin to think she could handle my mother in any shape or form.

So, when my husband told me about this I might have loudly voiced "Fuck [cousin's name]" in a fairly quiet room. Then I had to explain to my husband how I wasn't defending my mother - just irate over the fact that no one in this family has stood up for us or cared, even remotely, what happened to us or what she did to us. But, cause a little tiff between a brother and sister and OMG, you'd think my mother was ripping the legs off of baby kittens. My cousin "might have done something" to my mother if he hadn't stayed at the other end of the hallway - kiss my ass. You have no right to be that angry. None. You don't have a CLUE what it is like to be betrayed or attacked or harassed. So, suck a big one you dim-witted, fuck wit.

So, um, I'm not dead.

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Holy fuckballs, it's been a long time. I don't even remember what the fuck I bitched about on here last... was I still in the Wild Wild West, minus Will Smith? Was I already back East and bitching?

I'm noticing a bitch trend...

Mention of trend, I've come to realize one of my classmates (oh yes, at the ripe old age of almost 30, I am once again a student) is either on meth, or fucking narcoleptic. The bitch has fallen asleep in class, WHILE STANDING UP. I've only seen horses, and cows do that. She's neither equine or bovine, believe me, I've given her a very careful assessment from afar.

And the kicker? Bitch is PASSING WITH FLYING COLORS.

I began the actual hands on portion of my continuing education today, and while it was fun, there is also a slight problem.
No smoke breaks. At all. From seven a.m. until half past noon, no smoking.
I'm going to kill someone.

She Who Birthed Me had a few weeks where she seemed to be the unwanted offspring of Chernobyl and 3 Mile Island all rolled into one cranky little package. Told me I was not being smart, I was making stupid mistakes, I didn't need to be dating an awesome guy, and I should be doing nothing at all but going to school, working full time, and being lonely.
In other words: she was miserable and thought I should be to for her sake.

Oh! Yes! Dating! Oh, well, that is one thing I don't have to bitch about. See, after I got back East, it was like the male gender remembered I had a vagina. Yes, I was shocked too. Even more shocked when the guys who wanted to use aforementioned vagina took me out on actual dates. Like, where you have to sit down and eat with real silverware, not the plastic crap from Sonic.

I ran through... let's call it a 'few' guys once I got back in the dating pool, and while it was fun, I was not looking to get married or seriously date ever again. Did you know most men in this area are giant vaginas? And not the fun vagina either- they're like blue waffle vag that is slimy and gross and no one ever wants near it ever again.

Then I got hooked up with Brandon by a mutual long term friend of ours who proved just how well she knows us in the fact she demanded we start talking. And then sits smug when everything works out.
Now I'm halfway married, friends are picking out what features we need to pass onto future offspring, and how my middle and last initials would be the same. Oh, and when is a good time for a wedding. And suggestions on where.