Wednesday, March 11, 2009

UPDATED!!! Tuesday, Bloody Tuesday

Here's the thing about yesterday? Yesterday was bitch. Yesterday was the kind of bitch that could make a girl face plant into a bag of mini candy bars and come up for air only to complain that there was not one single solitary drop of bacon grease to be found in that fucking bag.

Yesterday left me with two choices.

Get drunk
Eat a lot of shit.

This morning came really fucking early and found me feeling hollow - well except for the bacon covered peanut butter cup that I could be making up. But am I?

So this jerk face, ass wipe Tuesday also found me laying in bed, sobbing hysterically because I ended up watching one of those Dateline shows where they put actors in horrible situations and then watch mankind fail miserably at being anything close to human. And when they had the homeless actor, lay dead on the sidewalk and not one asshole stopped to help because he was homeless I decided I no longer wanted to be human.

The good thing that happened was when Sunday, Bloody Sunday came on the radio, for the first time in 3 years I smiled at the song. Mostly, because I had this entire Twittersation with someone that I'm just going to go ahead and put in the same category as knees that belong to bees, about how Bono is totally her imaginary husband and how Michael Hutchense makes your soul ache and bleed with his beauty. So when that song came on I smiled instead of feeling the pointy little bitch dagger that usually just turns itself inside my bruised and broken heart.

The thing about that song is that it's forever burned into my being and is simultaneously on my highlight and lowlight reels of life because when I hear it, when I feel it, all I can see is the night my husband swayed and danced with my now dead son around our tiny little living room while this video played behind him.

That's a total bite, isn't it? I know, fuck me and my sadness today. As a matter of fact?

Fuck you sadness.

But that wasn't about sadness right? It was about new found goodness.

Yesterday's big suck factor was mostly due to this really insanely stupid meeting we had with our financial planner that made me want to gouge out an eye, kick a shin and then just made me cry like a baby. And here's the thing about crying, I hate it and try to not do it.

This morning, I might have said something to Jason about how buying Depeche Mode tickets might not be our best plan of action and that left a big gaping hole in my belly. Then I stopped to get a Diet 7-up (which is my new crutch in life) and stood there, grinning like a jackass when the guy in front of me plopped to tall boys down on the counter and started to count his pennies to pay for them at 7:30 in the am.

Because hell? Life could be so much fucking worse, right? I waited patiently because no matter what, I wasn't doing that and I knew if I saw that guy laying on the sidewalk, with his can in hand, I wouldn't hesitate to call 911 and check his pulse. I'm a hella good person, I know it. And then? Then I reached in my pocket to pull out the dollar and some change I had to pay for my drink and all I pulled out in the first handful was a few pennies, a partial Kleenex and a mother fucking button.

I pulled out a button.

Like Charles Fucking Dickens was writing my bacon lacking life story.

Fuck you, little street urchin button!

I found my dollar and clutched the cold bottle as I walked into the cold air and got into my car. I looked at the car with the broken window next to me, smiled, again thinking, look, worse, right? Look at my pleasure over other's misfortune. Oh and maybe I should consider moving.

As I reversed my car, I turned up the volume and this is where I just wonder what the hell I've ever done because the haunting drum of Sunday, Bloody Sunday started tearing into my ear drums and I burst into tears.

So you know what? Fuck you, Wednesday. Fuck you hard.

Hold the Mah'fucking phone. My day just got better. I found THISSSSS!

Or even better? Huey Mah'fucking Lewis!

Thank you


Miss Merry Sunshine said...

How about I pull your blonde head into my swollen PMS bossom (is that how you spell that? Should stick with boobs but, feeling like rocking the word bossum, bosome? today) and stroke your hair.

I'm sorry today sucks ass...

Rassles said...

If it makes you feel any better, I found a homeless man dying on the street once. I totally helped him, and then he ran away before an ambulance came. I wrote a blog about it.

But that doesn't make Wednesdays any less bullshit.

Gwen said...

I hate crying, too. It gives me terrible migraines. I also love mini candy bars and bacon. We have a lot in common. I don't think I could bear watching that type of show. I'm a humanist but I realize that there are selfish, amoral human beings out there who would step right over a dead person. It makes my heart sad. And just thinking about your husband dancing with your son who is now gone makes my heart sad, too. I hope your Wednesday is much, much better than your Tuesday.

for a different kind of girl said...

Sweet heaven...

As I write this comment, I'm snapping my fingers to the opening of "Mystify" and taking sips off the 44 ounce Diet Mt. Dew I was able to buy today because I ran to Walgreens earlier and returned a two dollar pair of shoe laces I didn't need afterall. Hello, small pleasures.

I get it. I do. I absolutely get it. I've done my own kind of dance. Let us remember to always dip and bend our respective bee's knees to the good when we can. All those stars that shine upon you? Well, they kiss you every night. You can quote Michael Hutchence and me on that!

Anonymous said...

Right after I finished reading this, my son came to me and wanted in my lap. I usually try to distract him by sending him back to whatever he was doing. Mama's too busy for her baby...sad right?!

Yeah. I'm working on that...

So instead, I picked him up and swirled him in the air and made him giggle that cute giggle that fills me up warmly on the inside. I always try to rememeber your story when I become a selfish bitch.

Jack FM plays Sunday, Bloody Sunday all the time and I love it since it IS my favorite U2 song. It's one of those that you have to crank up.

Cheer up dollface, you're one helluva lady! ;)

Lisa..... said...

Finding a button in my pocket would never happen. It just goes to show you're more creative than me cuz you probably sew shit with buttons.

Me, I would have old candy wrappers.

Chris said...

As I was reading your blog, I was distractedly wiping a chocolate stain off my slacks behind my desk. A few people passed my office staring at me wondering what kind of sick manuever I was engaged in.

You're a strong woman. I wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

Brandy Rose said...

Wow, that sucks. I believe my fuck it all mood is working its way up into my day now.

Gonzo Parenting Zine said...

I'm sorry you're having a low time... you're still the hotness!


Miss Yvonne said...

Well, this explains the comment you left on my blog yesterday. You come on over my way anytime you are feeling low, m'kay?

I'm feeling your pain today, girl. I'm having a really shitty day and am seriously contemplating yelling "Fuck. This. Shit." from my cubicle and walking out.

Sarah said...

I know how you feel. I've stopped watching those news shows because they upset me so much. Here's something "Sunday Bloody Sunday" related to cheer you up (hope the british humour translates)

Rassles said...

I'm totally seeing Huey Lewis and the News on the fourth of July.


Johnny B. Truant said...

AAAAAHAHAHAHAAA Huey defeats Truman! I'm ashamed to get and to laugh at that.

Yesterday sucked giant nuts for me too, if it helps any.

mongoliangirl said...

Strong Betsey. Thanks for writing this.
U2 (the entire band) is my husband (I know, whorin' me, right?). You even made me miss my POS '79 Toyota 'cause that's all it's tape deck ever played.
Oh, and you also helped renew my faith in Christ. Just when I was getting over his ass.
Strong Betsey.

Scandalous Housewife said...

Zoloft-a-tini, sweetie. Look in to it...