John. 4/23/2022
The past two weeks have been interesting. I won't go day by day like I have in the past. Mainly because my days are starting to blend together. I can tell you that the day I picked Mr. Blinky up from the airport started out well and ended on a sad note. My Husky, Vixen, that we had for 9 years died.
The next day we went to comic-con. Mr. Blinky, Brosswell and I all wore t-shirts with superheroes on them. LAMM dressed up as an anime character. It was fun, but we go every year and we spend too much money. I bought a new Journal to add to my collection.
I've had calls from mom that went the same as always. I've gotten calls from Half-dozen that just make my head hurt. But yesterday I got a call from Cousin Rehab. I had not spoken to her or heard from her in over a month. The first thing out of her mouth was "My dad died last week. I'm in a lot of pain. I'm bedridden and can't walk. I need pads, a pack of cigarettes and some food would be helpful. I know you are all about victim advocacy." I'm like what the fuck? No high, how are you, fuck you or a bend over. I have tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. She hangs up the phone and I look at Mr. Blinky "I'm going to do this but it will be the last thing I do for her. And I'm done." I leave to go get this shit she wants. She calls me twice before I can get down the street. I make it to her trailer and her best friend’s son is outside doing some work when Cousin Rehab comes busting out the door yelling at him that I was what a real friend is and that people didn’t know all the good that I do. Then she walks over to my car and asks me to call the Airforce to contest her father's Will, that she should get everything her father wanted her to have. She writes this shit on the back of a receipt. It's so incoherent that it looks like a toddler wrote it. She was so messed up. She looked like dog shit. She had on sweatpants, an old ugly housecoat, her face was smeared with makeup and she had a shitty tan from going to the tanning bed. She went back into the trailer and I called over her friend's son to find out what the fuck happened. Turns out she went to a doctor that prescribed her Xanax. He was like she's scaring me. I told him he should be scared, that's the shit that makes her crazy and you can't talk to her in that state. I then went to her friend’s house and had a deep conversation with her about the jacked-up shit Rehab has lied about. I told her I was done with Rehab and I had to go home, get ready for work, pack for a trip and I would be out of town over the weekend. Rehab had wasted my time. By the time I dressed for work and packed she had called my phone twice and sent six text messages trying to get me to come get and take her to get pain meds. She called 8 times while I was at work and texted the most ridiculous messages, still trying to get me to come get her. This morning I had 7 text messages and a voice mail. She thought she left her wallet in my car. After more bullshit, I sent a message to her friend that I was blocking her number.
I came home today after having a night out with Kinetic. It was a fun night. I was tired so I went to take a nap. I slept for hours. Anyway, Mr. Blinky has been home for two weeks and it looks like he may be home for another week. We will see.
Well, that's just been a tiny bit of my two weeks. I have not forgotten what you asked me to do. It's going to require more time when I don't have someone up my ass and over my shoulder. Till next time.
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