Thicslose To No Faith

The Universe and I are at serious odds again. I am so irritated today that I can’t even stand it anymore; and I’m not getting any help from the so-called Higher Power that’s supposedly out there watching over us and helping us through our problems. Today It/He/She’s not helping; not helping me anyway.

This morning Dolly was outside playing with her friend who is also four. They were in a side yard playing with the friend’s wagon. Suddenly Dolly walked in the house telling me that Pete – you remember him, the neighborhood bully I discussed back in May – had put gum in her hair and spit on her, and had spit in her friend’s wagon. I was angry at what he did simply because he’s a shit. The gum was right at the top of her head, too, near the part in the middle, so I was really unhappy about that. I marched Dolly over to Pete’s house and pounded on the door with an open hand to get his mother’s attention. She came to the door and I told her, not too politely either, to get her son in the house because of what he did. She told me not to tell her what to do to which I replied that, if she didn’t call him in, I’d call the police like DFS instructed me to. She told me to go ahead and then she said, “He’s a kid; deal with it!!” Fuck you, bitch!!! A ten year old has no business picking on a four year old. I looked her right in the eye and told her that I don’t have to deal with it but that she needs to teach him to keep his hands off of other kids. Her response was to tell me to fuck off. So I responded with a, “SHUT UP, BITCH!!!” “Come here and make me…” I’ll come over there and make you eat your own fat fist, you fucking wretch. (I have another word in mind but it’s really inappropriate for this space.)

I came home and called 911 explaining that it wasn’t an emergency but that I was doing what DFS instructed me to do with this kid. The dispatcher agreed that he had no business picking on my daughter and would definitely send a car to take a report. Shortly thereafter two officers arrived, looking so extremely similar that I actually asked them if they were related, and, when they denied it, I asked if they were sure. Honest to gosh I thought they were twins. Anyway, they listened to me and then went to speak to this fat, sloppy, bitch. I could hear what she was saying and she actually stood there in front of her son and lied to the police telling them that I had almost broken her door down trying to get at her, blah, blah, blah… Are you fucking serious?!!! Nice example to set for your kid. No wonder he is the way he is. Go find a double-wide and some teeth, bitch. I’ll buy you a deep fryer as a house-warming gift.

The officers came back over to me as I was trying to remove the gum from Dolly’s hair and just said, “This is the deal, next time you see him outside, bring your kids in the house.” WHAT!!!! Did I hear that correctly? They said that, the next time they got called here because I had words with that bitch they would have to write up a report and turn it in to the management office. Go the fuck ahead; I don’t give a shit. Let them know what a piece of shit that bitch really is. I told them that I don’t care about a report since I’m moving on Thursday but that I was doing what DFS told me to do with this kid. Office #1 said that the problem was solved then, since I am moving, and officer #2 said that it was better to bring my kids in since they probably don’t want to be around Pete anyway. I told them that I won’t bring my kids in because it’s not fair of them to have to go inside just because that bully was around; and that his mother needs to keep him on his own side of the street. They wished me a good day and left.

Then Dolly’s friend’s mother came over to find out what had happened and if she had heard them right about bringing our kids in the house. Yep, she heard right. Since neither of us agrees with them I decided that I’ll go to the precinct to get incident reports from the times I had to call them here about Pete and will file a complaint at the management office myself. Then I’m going to call DFS and let them know what’s been going on with this kid so they can add it to the report. Basically, the police won’t do anything but want us to give the bully the run of the neighborhood. The fuck I will!!!

So that ticked me off immensely but my day went forward. I reposted my furniture ads but haven’t had one response to any of them today. Not one. The Universe is telling me I’m on my own with this shit but I’ve exhausted all my options at this point. I’ll be forced to carry the table and chairs with me and to bust the shit out of everything else I’ll be putting at the dumpster. FUCK MY NEIGHBORS!!! I will not give away anything to these losers. My irritation just grew from that point, and it’s still growing.

Dolly decided she wanted to go to lie down but I told her she had to go to bed since it was already after 5:00 and I didn’t want her falling asleep on the sofa. We went up to my room and the TV, that had already been on its way out, stopped working altogether. Just another dig from the Universe. “Stupid bitch; hear us laughing now?” So I plugged it out of the wall and carried this monstrous piece of crap down the stairs and deposited it on my front porch in full view of my neighbors, in the pouring rain. Then I went down to the basement to get the spare TV I had – one that my former neighbor Kim had given me when she moved – and put it in my room. I get it plugged in and the cable converter connected but then I couldn’t find the remote control. I had just had it in my fucking hand trying to get the other TV to work. I got the remote from Dolly’s room but couldn’t find batteries to put in it. I had taken them out when I packed her room. I finally found some batteries and got the TV working properly but still needed to find the other remote since Comcast will be retrieving it on Wednesday and I’m not paying $50 to replace it.

I was really getting sore at the Universe because all I wanted to do was find a simple piece of equipment that didn’t walk away by itself. I was pissed and letting the Universe know it. I finally, after about an hour, located the remote. It had fallen down into the corner of one of the boxes in my room that I still have open. It has my clothing in it so I’m not taping it up just yet. So, I reprogrammed the original remote to work the TV and the converter, took the batteries out of the second remote and put them in my pocketbook, and returned Dolly’s remote to her room so I’d know where it was. I was still pissed because then I had to go to the porch and carry that seriously heavy TV to the dumpster all by myself. It was fucking heavy, too. I hurt my elbow – again – and probably reinjured my back. It was just starting to feel good today but I have no clue what it’ll feel like when I wake up in the morning.

So things finally settled down a bit, but I was still having words with the Universe. I need my furniture sold before I leave and I’m not putting any faith out there anymore. I got this move going by myself; the Universe had nothing to do with Paul offering to help us move. That was me. The furniture that did sell so far was because I placed ads, not because the Universe suggested that anyone buy my stuff. It didn’t step in when I needed help dealing with Pete, his mom, and the shithead cops in this neighborhood, either. Want to repeat to me now that I need to keep the faith? I dare ya; I triple-dog dare ya.

So I’m sitting here writing this post when Zach comes in and asks if he can go to a different-but-near cul-de-sac to hang with his friends. Dolly wants to go, too, so I asked Zach who was there. There was only one kid I really am not fond of so I gave him the go-ahead as long as he kept an eye on Dolly. He agreed. Not five minutes later they came in with Zach asking if he could go to the cul-de-sac behind us. Gee, Zach, who’s going to be there (because I really don’t like the kids who live in that one)? He tells me, “Okay, I’ll tell you the truth. I was there with C and D, but Pete and L are starting a fight with so-and-so; but I’m not in the fight…” This was definitely a case of mother-interruptus. “No, Zach, you won’t be going there. Pete is out there so you can hang in our parking lot or the living room but you won’t be out of my sight.” I explained to him that I don’t need him anywhere near Pete so that his fat-piece-of-shit mother can put any blame on him or any of my kids. I don’t want the po-po showing up at my door telling me my kid had no business being around Pete, and so on and so forth; yadda, yadda, yadda; blah, blah, blah… Zach wasn’t happy but I don’t care. I don’t like Pete, I don’t want my kids anywhere near Pete, and, if I was permitted to, I’d beat Pete’s ass the way it needs to be beaten. Since I’m not his mother, though, I have to keep my hands to myself.

Anyway, that’s been my day, up to this moment. It hasn’t been pleasant, and I’m really pissed off at the Universe for not stepping in to offer any help or advice on any of my issues today. Guess what? I’m done now. I want a mother fucking miracle or I’ll be done with all the “believing” bullshit. I don’t want to hear that I have to wait, that things will come in time (I’m about out of time), that I have to have faith… I’m sick of hearing it, and I’m sick of believing and not getting any results. Whatever happens, happens because of me, not the Universe. You think differently? I want proof, good solid proof. That’s who I am, that’s what I require. No proof, no faith. I can handle it, can you?

Until next time…peace to all.