Things aren't helped much by the lack of organization. I find myself piling clothes on the floor, because I don't care enough to put them away. Or give them away, for that matter. The fitted sheet on the bed is off of the corners and in a wad in the center, the pillows piled in clumps, clothing and magazines and old mail is piled up at the foot. I wash out my undies by hand every night.
I could cope with this if not for the bitch at work who seems to feel that she's being paid to watch my every move. I must call her when I come in so she can check my time, I must check in and out when I want to take a pee, I must put a sign up saying I've gone to take a pee and please call the bitch. Xanax is my new best friend.
I was okay until I had several things go dreadfully wrong last week because I couldn't contact anyone. It took me days to finally locate someone who could tell me whether or not my relatives in Moore, Oklahoma were alive. I spend over 5 hours trying to pick the hubster up at the airport because I had no phone to find out where the hell he was.
There are people out there who are obsessed with me because they acted like brats and I called them on it, and, jeez, talk about holding grudges! For God's sake, grow the fuck up! I think it's just awesome that you never had to work a day in your privileged little life, I also think you have no right to judge people who DO. So there.
I recently, being of loose mind and soft heart, offered to drive my son and his girlfriend to Mexico for her best friend's wedding. Oddly enough, I periodically find myself wondering why, if this is her best friend, isn't she IN the wedding, but hey, it's not for me to judge. Doesn't stop me, but I DO keep my judgments to myself. For the most part.
It then occurred to me that offering to drive to Mexico was, to put it mildly, stupid. We all need passports, although I (and everyone else) decided on those cards that let you into a foreign country providing you show up in a car, on a bike, a train or on foot. They're not good for flying. To fly you have to pay $140 for a passport "book." For $50 bucks you can get a passport "card" which, basically, means you can drive into Tijuana or Vancouver. Or you can get these two things bundled. A passport AND a card cost you the bargain price of $190 which, as you have undoubtedly noticed, is $50 and $140. Not to mention that if you have the book you can use IT to drive to TJ or Vancouver, which makes the addition of the card, well, stupid.
Anyway, I was told that the wedding was at a resort on the Sea of Cortez. The Sea of Cortez is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. I was told the area was a couple of hours drive south of the border. So...I'm thinking what the hell? It's about 2 and a half hours from here to the border and another couple of hours to The Resort at Playa del Dontdrinkthewater. The kids have offered to pay for the gas. I invited my other son to join me. We get the wedding discounted rate rooms and we can get a lovely double queen room on the beach for about half a million pesos which converts to about $53.26. The gf will get me invited to the wedding, which I graciously decline. I pick out a white eyelet wrap dress and a new pair of sandals from a cheapo catalog, stop cheating on my diet so I won't look so bad in my bathing suit, and have every intention of spending the hours of the evening wedding sipping Margaritas and munching Camerones while the sun sets.
I have managed to be JUST enough put out so the hubster doesn't realize that I'm chomping at the bit to leave which placing most of the blame on my own soft heartedness because no one else can drive, it's a long story.
Then I finally get the official word. Turns out the wedding isn't at Playa del Dontdrinkthewater, it's at Playa del Pleaseheedthetravelwarnings. Yep, it's on the Sea of Cortez allright. The mainland side. Not the west, or Baja side. So the 2 and a half hour drive to the border is the same, but when I get there I turn left and continue on for about another 8 hours into Nogales, Arizona, from which I THEN turn south to the border where I embark on a 2 hour drive IF it were in the US with paved roads but is more like a 4 hour drive on the dirt highways of the Republic of Mexico, through Sonora, past Hermosillo and into the area the U.S. State Department describes thusly;
Sonora is a key region in the international drug and human trafficking trades, and can be extremely dangerous for travelers. The region west of Nogales, east of Sonoyta, and from Caborca north, including the towns of Saric, Tubutama and Altar, and the eastern edge of Sonora bordering Chihuahua, are known centers of illegal activity.
I am now, thanks to the drugs and the therapy, in touch with my inner coward. I point out that this is turned into a 15 hour drive which will require an overnight, in Tucson or Nogales, both coming and going. My son can't take four days off. This is the best news I've had in two months.
I am awaiting the outcome of this adventure, btw. The gf has said she is going to contact her friend and see what she can work out. I'm still awaiting the outcome.
This mental health thing is a pile of steaming crap. I think I liked it better when I was off my rocker. f