A Working Mom’s Exasperation

April 12, 2013 by skeletoes

You asked why I don’t like you, but really you should ask why I don’t respect you.

I just got home, 12 hours after I left my house this morning. I have to pull some over time because we lost a girl at the office. That’s okay with me, extra cash on my paycheck never hurts, and I’m still home by dinner. I guess me and the kid are going to head into the office tomorrow so I can finish up some stuff, that way I won’t have to spend that much extra time there next week. I miss my kid during the week while she’s at school, I don’t like missing her any longer. So we have plans to hang out with her aunt tomorrow and some fun activities for Sunday as well.

I work hard at my job because I pride myself in being successful. I love my “grown-up” job because it allows me to make enough money to pay for my daughter’s school, clothes, and of course the basics. I make enough now, that with some budgeting, I can afford fun stuff and vacations. I work this hard because I like caring for my family and knowing I can provide for them, and I want to set a good example for my girl. I love my “grown-up” job because I work during her school hours and a tad bit before and after. That way she’s home with me as much as possible and we can spend time together.

I take pride in my home and in my family. The majority of my actions are involving them. I make decisions that will benefit not just me but my entire family. I believe that raising your child is supposed to be the most important job of a mother. I do my best to raise her right and be a good mother. To provide a loving, stable home in which she can thrive despite life’s obstacles.

I have worked long and hard to fix my life after I divorced my ex-husband. I worked all sorts of jobs until I found one that allowed me to spend more time with her and afford my bills at the same time. I learned how to deal with the fact that she is in school now, and I miss her dearly when she’s there. I bought and fixed up a house, and do my best to have a family dinner every night. Call me traditional, but it’s good enough for me. I went from a stay at home mom in an abusive relationship to a working mother who has found a career and is thriving.

You wonder why I don’t like you. You stand for everything I strive not to be. You are the stereotypical welfare mom. You defraud the government for more welfare by claiming people you shouldn’t and by working for cash. You work at a bar, and hang out there when you’re not working, all the while insisting that you can’t get a new job because there’s nothing out there. Right. Um retail. You really don’t have any bills since you don’t pay for food, childcare, or medical. I don’t even think you pay rent. Get a day job. You’ve been working that shit hole bar for 3 years. Time to move on. I don’t respect you because you are a poor excuse for a mom. You choose your friends and your bar-job over your son. You say “Oh he’s only with me 1 day this week” like it’s no big deal, when by friday, I miss my daughter so much by the time I pick her up from school that I want nothing more than to hug her, and I still see her every day. Your son will grow up to remember that you were not there when he needed you most. You complain when the government finally catches you ripping off welfare and blame everyone but yourself. Because obviously, since you’re a single mom, the world owes you something. You shouldn’t have to work hard to take care of your children. You shouldn’t have to work at all! You shouldn’t have to spend time with your kids, because hey, that’s what your parents are for! God forbid you use the money you *do* earn to buy your child food, when the government pays you for FREE.

So moral of the story here? Don’t tell me you know how hard it is, when you clearly don’t know. You haven’t had to raise your own child in 3 years, nor do you even pay your own bills. Once you grow up and realise that you actually have to BE there for your child, that your child ranks far over your social life, once you get a job that provides for yourself and your child, or hell even SHOW interest or LOOK…. then I might respect you.

Everyone has their low points, hell, in the past 10 years I’ve been on a got-damned rollercoaster. But you know what? I picked myself up off the ground and improved myself and my life to benefit my children. There’s nothing wrong with working at a bar, as long as you make decent money and spend time with your child. But once a week, is not it. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with going out and having fun, but if your fun DIRECTLY IMPACTS YOUR CHILD, it’s time to stop. Everyone hits a financial hard point, and some of us (myself included) have needed state aid. But it’s there for emergencies, until you improve your situation, it’s not a way of life. It’s there to help you up when you need a hand, and that’s it. When you’ve been at the same rock-bottom-point of your life for 3 years, and you don’t see a problem with it, it’s time to grow up. It’s not about you anymore, it’s about your child.

[I apologize to anyone if I offended them, this is my own personal opinion after being on both sides of the fence. I do not have respect for someone who lives on welfare for years. Nor do I have respect for parents who don't see their children on their own choice. I don't have respect for people who are in a shit situation but refuse to fix their lives, even worse expect other people to fix it for them. Sorry.]

Spoiling Yourself, Just Do It

March 24, 2013 by skeletoes

Anyone who has kids will understand this, hell singletons and child-free people will get it too. It’s something I refer to as Mommy-Guilt. Ever since I had A, I have always felt guilty spending money on myself. If I could finally convince myself that I need to buy some clothes (in a regular store – I’m also a thrifter), I’d never make it to the register with the *one* pair of jeans. If I did, I’d curse myself all the way out the damned door. If I made it to the car, 9/10 times I’d return it before I even got out of the parking lot.

I’ve always been a bit frugal (read: CHEAP), but after A was born it got out of hand. We’d go to the store with the intention of getting everyone a few new outfits, and I could never bring myself to get myself something. It was always “Well, the baby needs something new” or “I really don’t need more than the jeans I have, A needs new shoes (again)” or “You know, I have to pay a couple bills, I don’t need this *right* now anyway.” It didn’t matter if I was down to two pairs of undies and my socks were ruined, I put myself off because something always came before me.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized a little bit behind my thinking, and in the process got angry at myself. I got angry at my ex-husband for enabling it. What I had been doing was putting myself at the bottom of the list. I had the mindset that I was the least important, I didn’t deserve to buy things for myself. Who was I to spend money on myself when that money could go to (insert random bill here) or something new for A, hell, new toys for the cats came before I did. I was perfectly capable of buying another new jacket for my ex-husband or another set of baby shoes for A. Which is not bad in and of itself, but when it came to things I needed, I neglected myself. I felt like everyone else deserved more than I did. I felt like a “bad-mom” or a “bad-wife” if I spent money on myself. It seemed that surely that money could go somewhere else.

You know what? It could go somewhere else. I could skip getting myself clothes and save the money for the next bill. I could skip that new CD download because A will need something soon. I could put myself last because there will always be something else that needs me to throw money at it. No matter what you do, there will *always* be something else you could be saving your money for. Your kids need to be your top priority, but why aren’t you on top too?

You need to take care of yourself too. You need to treat yourself every once in a while for your own sanity. As a woman and a mother I know I’ll always put my child and family before myself, but after almost 27 years it finally hit me. I deserve it.

…

So today we had to run to the store to get the animals some food and pick up milk and bread. I took a shower and was drying my hair off and I thought about buying a new round brush so I could do my hair right. Last week I had gotten my first haircut in over a year but had nothing to style it with. I shrugged, I figured I’d just keep using headbands. No big deal, it’ll grow out long enough for a clip soon enough. I turned around, stepped on my last clip and it broke. I picked it up and threw it away. I’d buy another one some day.

I went to get dressed. (I’m very thrifty – so I do have skirts, leggings and a couple pairs of jeans – I love Goodwill!) I noticed that a lot of my socks and undies were worn. I tossed out the ones that weren’t worth wearing anymore, or had too many toe holes. There wasn’t much left. I tried to think of the last time I bought some undies or socks for myself while I tried to find my bra. I have one bra that still functions. I found it in the laundry basket, one of the straps was almost frayed through. I laughed, I knew the last time I had bought a bra, it was the weekend after my divorce was final… ’09.

I finished throwing on some clothes, got Noodle dressed and put on my boots. I was super lucky at christmas, my parents bought me two pairs of boots for Winter. I love them and have worn them daily. I did however just buy Noodle her spring shoes, and she wanted to wear the gym shoes today. I dug through the closet and realized there were a lot of busted and old shoes that needed tossing (we all wear our shoes until they are in pieces or Noodle outgrows them). I started tossing the old ones in a bag, the use-able ones in a tote for the thrift. Once I found her shoes and the closet was organized, I realized that I had one pair of gym shoes and flip flops from dollar general. I thought about shoes for spring, then instantly thought “well, A will need clothes for spring soon, I’ll worry about it then.”

Something snapped. It hit me, all of the things I neglect for myself. All of the things I promised I’d buy myself when I got my promotion, all of the things I promised I’d get with my tax return when the promotion came and went and I still put myself off. Damnit, I had bought something for everyone but me, I wanted functional things too.

I dragged Ry and Nood out of the house and to the store. We picked up the things we needed for the animals and the house, and then we went over to Target. I told Ry that I was going shopping and told my mind that I *would* pay.

By the time I was at the register I had a pair of flats and a cute pair of wedges, 4 bras, headbands and a brush, bodywash (not the dollar general variety lol), post-its and pens (work), and some containers to organize pet crap with that I had been eyeing. I had to think about anything and everything to keep my mind off of the money I was spending. The nice register girl rang me up and I swiped my card. The receipt printed out and I snapped at Ry and Noodle to get out to the car.

The whole way home I kept trying to justify that I needed these things. I kept thanking Ry for “letting” me buy things (haha, I control the finances), and reassuring (no one but me) that I had money for all the bills and such. I forced myself to take a deep breath and relax.

I do deserve nice new bras and shoes once in a while. I do deserve to buy basic hygiene crap even if it isn’t the generic version. I do need to put myself first once in a while. I need to remind myself to treat myself and take care of myself too. I need to get a haircut more than once every year, I need to buy undies and such when I need them. I need to buy us girls new nail polish, I need to wear shoes with out holes in them. If the bills are paid, my child has what she needs, there is plenty of food, then yes, I need to take care of myself too.

I just wish it didn’t take so long for me to realize this.

I wish that it wasn’t an acceptable way of thinking.

Happy Sunday everyone, make sure that you treat yourself once in a while. You deserve it.

Expectations are a Bitch and a Half

March 19, 2013 by skeletoes

I am the ultimate pessimist. I am. I’ve been a raging-skull-punch-you-on-the-way-down pessimist as long as I can remember. I always explain it like this: Hope for the best but always assume it won’t happen because life sucks and you should just get a helmet. Sometimes, always expecting the negative in a situation bums me out and irritates people but you know what? Screw off, there is a perk!! If you expect nothing to happen, or plan for worst case scenario, when things do go your way it’s even better!

Ie: Holding out for a new position at work.

Expectation: My ass getting canned and THEN denied unemployment.

Reality: Received promotion and desk with sparkles in it. (You can’t beat sparkles.) (Stop laughing.)

Being a pessimist has almost become a safety blanket for me. It’s just one more way I protect myself from getting hurt or upset when shit hits the fan… you know, because I expected it to, so I was prepared.

The only catch is is that people are not included in this mess of a safety net. For some reason, my ~~hopes~~ expectations of people are just as high as I have set for myself. This includes everyone, I’m talking from my neighbors to my boyfriend, from my kid to the little shit who lives 5 houses down. Everyone. Yes. I’m talking about you. I’m talking about family, I’m talking about doctors, I’m talking about co-workers, I’m talking about that kid who changed my oil last weekend. I’m talking about the lady who owns the laundry mat all the way to the got-damned President of the United States. I’m also talking about the person who is criticizing the fuck out of me for my run-on sentences. Yes, you too asshole. I have high-ass expectations for all of you.

“Oh but Sarah, you can’t expect that out of me?! It’s to harrrd!”

Bite me. You’re talking to a Single-Mom (not-even-child-support. Nada from the Dad.) who has been suffering with “Moderate to Severe” active Crohns Disease for 6 (5 diagnosed) years. I went from working 2 restaurant/bar gigs AND odd jobs to an office job all the while trying *not* to die or live in the hospital. Throw in some domestic abuse, a failed marriage, and sprinkle some good old anxiety and depression on top. If I can do it, you can do it.

My life isn’t easy, and it’s not the hardest out there, but if I can live up to my expectations of what a person should be, how they should act, then so can you.

It’s not even that my expectations are phenomenal or anything, I always thought they were run-of-the-mill. Yet, time and time again I am informed that I expect too much.

Too much? Maybe.

I expect you to not be an asshole. No seriously. Just stop being an asshole to everyone. How about instead of copping an attitude at everyone who looks your way, you can try to say something nice to them or *gasp* try and help another human being with something.

I expect you to be polite and have manners. (Half of you just choked.) (Good.) I am one of the first people to laugh at or crack a horrible blow-job joke. I am. However, I hold the door for people coming out after me. If someone drops something, I try and pick it up for them. If I bump into someone, I apologize. Christ people, it’s not that hard. You walk past someone you smile and say “Hey” or do that stupid head nod thing that people do. Oh and two words. ”Please” and fucking “Thank you” <- I especially expect children to say it. (I had two little girls, aged 4, in my office today while their mom was with my co-worker. They said Please and Thank You for every single crayon I gave them, they even said it to *each other* as they fought over who got to draw with the purple-sparkle pen. If two little girls can say it, so can grown ass people.)

Work. If you’re over the legal age to work, I expect you to work. I don’t care what the hell you do, I don’t. I just expect you to do it, do it well and not be fucking lazy. I get it, people have lazy days, most days I decided I’d rather go back to bed before I even leave my bed. That doesn’t excuse you from doing your damned job. I’ve also done the dead-end job thing. I know that if you work hard sometimes it just doesn’t get you anywhere. My examples: Jiffy Lube, all 3 greek restaurants I worked at, Elder-care (promotion wise), most retail, the majority of sales (small ticket items), etc. You know why you should work hard? Just in case. Just in case you might get a chance at a different position or a promotion. Because you should work to *earn* your money, not mooch it. Also you have to work with other people, so this resorts back to “not being an asshole”. Don’t make your co-workers days hell. Work. It’s called “work-ethic” and you should have it, more importantly we should instill it in our children.

I expect you to be educated. I’m not talking about college, I’m not even talking about high school. I expect you to know what’s going on around you in the world, to care what’s happening to other people. I expect you to have an opinion, even if it differs from mine. I expect you to pay attention to something beyond the new trinket you just bought. There is important stuff going on in our world right now, I don’t expect you to be aware of everything, or know every minute detail, because I sure don’t… but I expect a decent attempt. I want people to have a brain of their own, not to be a mindless sheep. Why? Stupid people piss me off. So don’t be stupid. Borrow a book, read a newspaper. You know, Yahoo! has news and Google isn’t just there to look up porn. Use your brain.

I’m not saying you have to be perfect. I’m not. I’m far fucking from it. Sometimes I smoke too much, sometimes I snap at people through out the day because I’m cranky. Sometimes while you’re talking I imagine strangling you so you stop rambling on about your new manicure. I have lazy days and I have “Do I really have to put on pants??” days. But I try to be a good person, I try to be nice and courteous, I try to do my job to the best of my ability and I try to be aware and active in the world around me. That’s all I’m asking of other people, just do it. I’m a pessimist a million and one days out of a million and two. I am an optimist when it comes to other people. If you fuck-heads take that away from me, imagine how miserable I am going to make the world around me. (ha)

At least try not to be an asshole. That’s a start.

Long Days :: Busy Mind

March 11, 2013 by skeletoes

Please excuse the rambling, it’s been a long day.

There’s some days where I get a little bit down about having Crohns Disease. It drags on my head, sticks in the back of my mind. I don’t even have to be feeling all that sick. Sometimes all it takes is a little reminder, like visiting my GI doctor for a check up, or scheduling a Remicade appointment. Of course there are the days where I feel sub-par, and the days where I flat out feel like road kill… and ironically, those days I don’t get down at all. I spend those days focused on making it through, it’s not until I feel better that I get down about spending that time sick.

It’s difficult sometimes to think that this is a disease that I’ll have for the rest of my life, it’s even more difficult knowing that I could be in remission for years, and it could spring back up. Just that alone makes me a tad depressed. However, those days that I feel 100%, which thankfully are more and more now, I feel like I can continue to take on the world. It takes the good days to remember that I will and have gotten through it. Crohn’s Disease will not get me down.

What really kicks me in the ass is when I have a down right horrible Crohn’s day, or if I’m just particularly down, is coming home. I’ll be driving home from work/school/the moon and be in near tears. Yet, when I get home, open the door and shoo away the dogs, I feel better. Now, once I get home I realize how lucky I am. I am proud of what I’ve done for myself and for Noodle, and now that my house is more like my home it’s an example of it. My home is an example of what I’ve been through and what I’ve overcome. So I may not be over the moon happy, but knowing how far I’ve come despite having a chronic illness, it shakes more reality into my busy head.

So I may have Crohn’s Disease, but that’s part of who I am, and part of what’s made me strong.

Guns, Shootings and Suburbia.. OH MY!

March 10, 2013 by skeletoes

Let me pre-face this with a little bit of healthy ranting. I hate suburban “gangbangers”, these kids need to realize that they are in the suburbs, not in the city. If they think they are so BAD, I’ll give them a free ride down to the south side of Chicago and see how long they last. Shut up, pull up your pants, give me your gun. Gangs are stupid, shootings are stupid, you live in the suburbs!

It drives me insane. Apparently there was a shooting in my neighborhood at one of the quick stop marts last night. Of course all I can think of is “Damn, seriously? Someone needs to slap the shit out of those kids.” (FYI: I use the word kids not knowing how old the suspect was, and frankly I don’t care. If you run around with a gun shooting people over stupid shit, you’re a kid.) It just blows my mind.

I live in a “poor” town, especially in comparison with the next town over which is a tourist trap from hell. Most of the residents here are good people, we haven’t really had a problem on our street except for some kids tagging a mailbox a few years ago (in which I offered them a ride to the south side too). But of course, where there are “poor” people, there are stupid-fucking-kids who need an ass-whooping. I do have to give it to the police here, they work the hardest they can to keep up with everyone, and I do see them patrolling quite often when there are issues.

It just blows my mind, it does. What’s even worse is that there are parents in this neighborhood that encourage the gang-banger mentality. Hey Mom and Dad, instead of letting your kids get drunk and high, how about making sure they get their butts to school? Maybe punish them once in a while? Stop letting your ghetto ass kids wander around the neighborhood at all hours, shouldn’t they be doing homework? Sleeping? Reading? Chores? Shit. But nooooo, when your stupid ass kid gets busted stealing booze from Jewel Osco, you laugh and toss them outside. How about not.

The sad fact of the matter? I was looking for a news article online, trying to find out exactly what happened, and you wouldn’t believe the amount of shootings I found in the last 10 years! Not in just my town either, all the way across the northern part of the county. (Granted they were sparse the farther I went back in time.) Seriously? What the fuck. This is the type of shit that people move out of the city to get away from? Of course it follows us out.

There is just no excuse. You could come here and yelling for or against gun control and it wouldn’t get you anywhere. These kids? Didn’t register their guns (duh!), neither did their parents. And no, people here aren’t going to arm themselves in enough numbers “to bring down crime” because one: they’re too poor, and two: it’s their shit-head kids who are stealing guns and shooting people. Gun-control is null-and-void here.

What needs to happen is good-ole-discipline. Parents need to rein in their little shit head kids, make them learn, punish them, trust me, a smack upside the head goes a long way. Schools need to follow suit, if you feel the kid has a gun, have all those wonderful school cops frisk the fuck out of them and call the police. Encourage learning and good grades, offer incentives, instead of “because you have to”. More importantly, residents of my town (hell, EVERY TOWN) need to stand up and so “This is IT, no more!!” and take care of each other. On my street, we look out for each other… from the gang-bangers who walk around to that one creepy guy who was harassing my neighbors wife. If you see something, be alert, call the police. If you don’t stand up and stop it, no one will! It’s not the bad-seeds that make a neighborhood, it’s the parents neglecting their children, it’s the residents hiding and pretending it’s not happening.

Some kids need an ass-whooping, some parents need a backbone, and everyone needs to stand together. End of story.

Coffee In the Mornings

March 9, 2013 by skeletoes

There is nothing I like better than a quiet morning and a cup of coffee. It gives me some time to relax and get ready for the day. Kind of setting the day off on the the right foot. During the summer it’s even nicer, before work I’ll sit out on the front step and drink my coffee there. Usually it is dead silent still (I get up for work pretty early) and I can enjoy nature. Winter puts a damper on that, but on the weekends, I’ll usually get up a bit early and relax on the couch and read the news.

Coffee has always equaled peace to me. A time to wind down and clear my head. I think I’ve been drinking coffee since I was 14 years old, and it still tastes the best with a journal and pen laid out in front of me. I’ve found it hard to write on occasion if I don’t have a hot cup of coffee, it’s become that much of a routine in my life (Well gee, after 12 years I guess that was to be expected).

Sitting down with a cup of coffee has kept my brain in line more times that I’d like to admit. When I’m upset or stressed out, sometimes the solution is a few quiet moments and some rich coffee. It gives me that opportunity to breathe and think about what’s going on and become more rational. One of the perks, that shows up eventually, is that it gives me a chance to reflect (not only on the stupid stuff but..) on the good things in my life. It gives me a chance to realize that a particular problem is not world-ending, but in fact I am lucky and that I need to be more grateful.

…

I’ve been journaling since I learned how to write. There was something alluring about writing down your world in a book, and as I grew older, I began to like the stereotypical coffee, coffee house and journal time. Now that I have a child, I have my own desk and “quiet spot” to write in. Journaling (or blogging, or writing stupid shit on a napkin at 4 am because that’s the only thing you have to write on) I believe has made me a better person, it’s something I think that if people tried a few times, they would eventually pick up. I bought Noodle her first journal not too long ago. She now makes a big production out of sitting in bed with me in the evenings so we can write together. Her journaling is a lot more simple, but it gives her something to do and a way to explain things (with horrible kid spelling) ie: Today we went to the forest preserve, that made me happy. It’s also something that her and I BOTH do, not totally “together” but at the same time with each other. She knows that when she gets older, and I’m ancient, or when she asks as an adult, she’ll get all of my journals (I have more than 40 at this point)… and that will be a great way for her and whatever grandchildren I’ve accumulated at that point to learn about me. Hopefully it’s a trait she develops as well as she gets older.

…

So for now, I’m off to make some more coffee. Let the weekend begin.

How Did This Happen!?

March 6, 2013 by skeletoes

When exactly did I sign up to be an adult? Does anyone know? I’m pretty sure I was coloring in my coloring book one minute and the next I’m paying my mortgage. Whew! That was a fun ride, I blinked and 15 fucking years flew by. Today, the stark realization that I’m a grown-up has hit me… at the tender age of 26. I don’t know why it’s struck so hard, but it has, and it’s mind-boggling.

Sure, I have a 5 year old and have been making said mortgage payments for 4 years, but for some reason, I just now realized it. I guess Adult-hood is funny like that, it just sneaks up on you, right as you’re trying to color in Hello Kitty’s stupid hair-bow with your new crayons. I’ve never quite felt like an adult, even when I was in college, or when I had Noodle, or when I closed on my house. Never quite felt like it, it was almost like I was acting a part. That this wasn’t my real life, and I was just playing along.

Where I spend too much time…

I’m on my lunch break right now, I’ve locked myself inside my office with the intention of snooping the internet for an hour. Oddly enough, sitting at my desk, setting my paperwork aside, that’s when it hit me. I’m a grown up. I have my own office at work, my own desk strewn with paperwork and a photo of my daughter in a neat little frame she made. I will leave here today, pick up my daughter from school and go home and make dinner. We will eat dinner, I will help her with her homework, clean up and lay down to read.

It’s not like this routine is anything new. I’ve been doing it for months upon months upon months, but maybe now it’s that I actually enjoy it. Maybe it’s because now every day isn’t filled with a sense of monotony or longing for a chance to go out. Maybe now it’s because I’d rather be at home than out and about (most days). Maybe it’s because I finally got my head on straight and stopped taking for granted the wonderful things and people I already have in my life. I think that coming to terms with the fact that my life does have some routine in it, let me start scheduling things outside of that routine (vacations, renovations, soccer (for Nood) and such). Quite possibly it has something to do with the fact that I achieved my goals I had set years ago and I finally realized it. I finally took pride in what I had accomplished and with that pride, I set new goals for the next handful of years. Life is finally smoothing out enough that I (we) can move on and forward.

Being an adult is a funny thing. It’s a funny thing I tell yah.

But being an adult doesn’t mean that I’m not going to go sit on Facebook for my last 30 minutes of lunch while I sip my iced coffee. :)

The Political Line

January 17, 2013 by skeletoes

I am, more often than not, involved in some ridiculous political debate somewhere. I am interested in politics and more dangerously, I am always one to voice my opinion.

My political views vary, you could almost say Im politically bipolar. Im called a dirty hippy liberal, an undercover conservative, or more realistically, independent. More times than not, I vote democrat for the bigger picture and republican locally.

I am pro-choice. I do not like abortion, I do not like the thought of ending a life or the prospect of one anyway. I believe adoption is a better option, but I also believe it is up to each individual woman to make that decision. It’s our bodies and therefore our morals and beliefs that should lead us, not a government mandate.

I am for control to an extent. Do I think that guns should be outlawed? Absolutely not. I come from a family that hunts ( for food not sport ) and I believe we have the right to protect ourselves and our families. I believe in concealed carry. I believe crime would eventually drop if concealed carry was the norm. I also believe that assault rifles are not needed and dangerous. No argument can change my mind. I believe that there should be background checks to purchase a gun, sorry but if youve been convicted of a violent crime … you dont need a gun.
I believe in regular drug tests for anyone who receives state assistance. I believe that if you’re too broke to provide for your family that you’re too broke to do drugs. I do believe in assistance to help get back on your feet.

I believe in a lot of things, and so do most of you. I enjoy a good debate because I might learn something new or consider a side I hadnt been aware of before.

However, lately I’ve been withdrawing from debates. They’ve gone from fun and educational to hateful and angry. Since Obama took office 4 years ago, the line dividing this country by it’s two major parties has gotten deeper. There has been a lot of resentment which in turn spurs arguments and attacks.

To see the country so divided so unwilling to compromise is depressing. The is no discussion, it seems, to learn opposing views. There is no live and let live or live and work together. Its red vs. blue with little middle ground. Our country is tearing itself apart from the inside out.

One of my closest friends is my political opposite. We often debate and even though, more often than not we dont agree 100%, we come to a civil compromise and quite often a feasible solution. So I KNOW its possible for opposing sides to come to an agreement and work together, you just have to remove the hate from the equation.

Im not going to hate someone because they’re pro-life or anti-gun regulation. Fuck, this economy sucks and more people than you know have or still are using some sort of state assistance. We all are still human beings with the ability to listen and work together. Why dont we use it instead of spewing hateful bullshit?

Because let me tell you, at this rate it wont be terrorism that destroys this country…. it will be us.

Clutter and Anxiety

January 12, 2013 by skeletoes

Hi, my name is Sarah. I am one of the most high-strung, anxiety-filled, nut-ball people you know. Ha. That’s putting it in a nice way, or so says the boyfriend. Most of the time, my anxiety kicks me in the ass and gets me moving to accomplish shit I’ve been putting off. Sometimes though, it’s completely unneeded.

Today is Saturday. Ry works Saturday mornings, so this is a chill morning for Noodle and I. I tend to get a little cleaning done, but the both of us just relax after a long week of work and school and other misc. errands.

So I made my coffee, like I would any other weekend, but as I was filling the coffee filter I felt that all too familiar twinge. My sink has dishes in it, and the trash is nearly full. NO! It’s Saturday, I will not rush around doing stupid chores first thing in the morning! Absolutely-FUCKING-not!

I grabbed some cereal for the short one and headed into my room to enjoy my coffee. Jeez, my room is cluttered. It’s a mess! What in the hell happened!? I could just pick up this… NO! I will NOT! I can sit down and enjoy my coffee.

Coffee drinking commences. Well, since I’m at the computer, I can update my finances. You know, the receipts and such from the past couple days. So I start writing them out, and tossing them in a pile. I get up to throw them away and oh! I can toss this too! Lets take my little trash to the kitchen trash and OH! I need to take that out!

No! NO! NOOO! Good lord have mercy.

So at this point, I’m back in my chair. For the ump-teenth time. My anxiety has made my blood pressure rise. Even though I’ve tried to control it, I already have a list of stuff that I need to get done. I’m going to sit here and write and enjoy my coffee even if it’s making me twitch. That’s it. Simple.

Clutter. For some reason, clutter and chores give my anxiety a run for it’s money. I’m not sure why, but it’s always been like that. If my room is clean and organized, I can relax. If I have a basket of clothes to put away it sets me on edge. If there is shit on the floor I’m already getting weird.

I don’t know, I guess it works in my favor, but SHIT, I wanted to have coffee in peace. Off to clean.

Coffee and Cigarettes with a Bit o' Whiskey

Category Archives: Rambling