My friend, Colin, keeps asking me what's wrong. He emails me, asking why I'm so upset. I finally give in and reply:

Rather than have you think I’m blowing you off…I’ll let you in on the craziness. Where to begin…

Okay, for starters, I never should have gotten married. My husband is extremely depressed but has refused to get treatment. We’ve gone to a marriage counselor, but ended up fighting even more. Ultimately, Josh (my husband) refused to go anymore. It’s like living with an effing sixty-year-old man. A 60-year-old who won’t take an active role in either my or my son’s life. Why don’t I kick him out, you say? Because his little brother just died about a three months ago. His little brother who I just adored and was crushed by his death. But not as crushed as Josh. I think it would be just a tad cruel to kick the dude out so shortly after that. And until I can receive the Miss Manners reply to “How long after the death of a loved one is it polite to render a man homeless and heartbroken? Hmmm?” I’m shooting for six months to a year. But who knows?

Ohhhhh, did you think that was it? Not even close. For over a year now, I’ve been getting sick after every meal. Not in an eating disorder way…why, that’s too passé. I’ve seen doctors and specialists and have had to do really expensive procedures that I’m still paying for, just to be told that they can’t figure out what’s wrong. Sooooo…in the past couple months, I’ve lost most of my appetite. On average, I eat one small meal per day. When I do eat a full meal, I feel like vomiting afterward. While this may be great news for any physical problem areas on my body, I’m not particularly happy with this new development.

Moreover, I got put on probation at work. While I have been kicking ass on making sure the office runs efficiently in regards to computers, phones, office supplies, etc. I haven’t been refilling the printers and refrigerator promptly. Add to that the fact that I haven’t been taking lunch breaks (because I’d rather work through my lunch than listen to the admins complain about answering the phones for me), I have been put on a 30-day probation period with weekly check-ups. I now have to follow an extremely degrading schedule to ensure I’m stocking up on Diet Pepsi…lest we make the almighty brokers unhappy.

Now, why don’t I quit, you may ask? Because I’m about to start my next (and final) semester of school. This semester calls for three nights a week, of which I have to leave the office at 3:30. I don’t think a new job would appreciate that kind of schedule. Opus is aware of the fact that once I graduate, I will begin looking for jobs in my desired field of work (which is the main reason I was demoted to the front desk position…I’m not bitter about it, I swear). Throw in the fact that everyone treats me just slightly better than they would a fly they were about to squash, and it makes for a pretty shitty workday.

And while working as a receptionist seems like it would be a real money-maker, alas! It’s not. I have to work a part-time job as a cleaning lady for an office. This, combined with school and work and taking care of a six-year-old, has all but worn me out. While my husband is more than qualified to work at a job that would allow for me to quit my second job, he won’t leave his current job which only pays him in pesos (okay, not really…but it seems like it).

Shall I go on? Family issues! My mom is an insane meth addict (yes, really) who calls me constantly, asking for money and cigarettes. Ah, but everyone has family troubles, yes? I also have two little brothers (ages 4 and 6) who were put into foster care, then placed in the home of their abusive father (my latest stepfather). This should be a happy ending, but no. Dear stepfather has since taken the children and run away. We can’t find him and have no idea where my little brothers are or how they’re doing. And just in case the above revelations didn’t clue you into the fact that my family is completely messed up, my little brothers both have Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, and are in need of extensive therapy (which I’m certain they are not receiving). All these issues keep me up at night, stressing my little guts out, wondering if I should have adopted them when I had the chance.

Well, I guess that’s enough for now. Probably much more than you wanted to ever hear or know about me. That’s your punishment for being nice enough to inquire as to what’s bothering me.

He replies:

You need to think what's best for your son and remember that how he sees you treated is how he'll treat his girlfriend/wife.

Call me if you need to vent.... but don't ever vent before noon, I work nights ya know....

C~