Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

Once again, memoirs was attacked, and this time I had to completely overhaul wordpress (as you can see by the new layout, I can’t find the rose one anymore). I will be looking into moving my sites, but no idea how quickly or if this will even fix the problem.

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

we can have a combined monthly income of 13,700$ and not pay the bills on time?! Seriously, it should not be this fucking hard!

And mum’s “brilliant” new plan? She’s going to sell the house, and we’re going to move into apartments.

EXCUSE ME?!

First of all, we worked out ASSES off for this house. We paid it off once, and yes, things are a bit tight at the moment, but we usually manage to survive. I am NOT willing to give up 16 years and my fucking FUTURE so that she can play happy renter and line someone else’s pocket.

I will not leave this house until I am dead or we have sold it at a decent price for a NEW house, not some crappy apartment, thank you very much.

She had this whole thing where she would sell the house to a guy for 100,000$ up front and payments for the rest…except, she’s not realizing, after paying off the morgage (which, I don’t recall how much it is, but it’s not 100,000)….that’s a nice fucking down payment on a new house, plus, if the guy’s making payments…we don’t have to! His payments can be re-directed directly to the morgage of said new house.

Logic is not my mother’s fortay at the moment.

She’s also finally thinking about allowing me to become her payee…though she keeps changing that. Last night I went from becoming her payee, to splitting the bills down the center, to…whatever the fuck she’s come up with overnight. She can’t make up her mind, and we just keep getting further behind because she can’t manage her money (and yes, I can take her to court and get power of…whatever it is over money, but doing so would involve my family, because they always stick their noses into shit, and there is no way I’m letting my money grubbing, controling bastard of an uncle anywhere NEAR our money. Ours! No touchy!).

…I’m getting so fucking tired of this mess. I will admit it, I want out. I can’t say that to my mother because she’ll go ahead with her asanine plans and get rid of the only asset we have and I DON’T want that…but I’m so tired of all this crap. I’m tired of having every cent of my money being taken for bills she should have paid. I’m tired of opening the door to servicemen who are there to shut off one utility or the other. I’m tired of never knowing if I’m going to have electricity, water or heat the next morning. I’m REALLY fucking sick of paying 500$ rent (out of 680$ income) and then having to be -300$ in my bank account because if I don’t overdraft my account, I’m going to lose something…like the electricity last month…I’m also tired of being overdrafted by 300$ and still expected to pay 500$ rent the next month (hello mum! One cannot make 800$ out of 680!)

And it’s not just the money, I’m tired of being abused. I’m tired of being yelled at or bad mouthed because I can’t get out of bed and clean up the living room her dog tore up. I’m tired of being left alone when I’m violently ill so my mother can go spend the day at a place that makes her cry when she gets home (and I’m really fucking tired of her crying every day…it’s not her fault, but damn does it hurt me). I’m tired of my needs always coming last.

…maybe I’m just tired.

My mother and I got into a blazing row last week about how I was being ‘lazy’ and I’m always sick and that she’s doesn’t want to hear about it anymore since I don’t do anything around the house. Rather funny…for someone so lazy, I now have a home healthcare worker who will come to work for 50hrs a month to help me get around the house, bathe, eat, ect. Apparently the goverment and my doctors are seeing actual medical conditions, not ‘laziness’.

Grandmere managed to ruin another holiday, though I guess I can’t blame her this time. Just as we were going to start the BBQ for the fourth…life alert called us to tell us she was being rushed to the hospital. No idea what’s going on except that she’s waiting on a surgery…I’m sort of surprised she’s lasted this long, but I doubt it’ll be much longer.

…I still don’t know how I feel about the fact she may soon be very much out of my life. I mean, I’ve wanted it for years, prayed for it, but now…she’s my grandmother, even if she is the most wicked, evil, spiteful woman I have ever met.

I think the stress of Grandmere is what’s pushing my mother over the edge right now…and while I understand that, it’s still not making it a very happy place when I have to take all the bitching and fighting and…everything, just because she needs to lash out.

Sometimes…I wish I could just run away. Disappear and have my own life. But I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t leave my mother. For one thing, I’m too damn scared of what she’d do if I’m not around to keep her going…and for the other…I love her, despite the constant stress.

In utterly un-related news, I’ve discovered I can’t be without ciggerettes right now. I ran out hours ago and have not stopped scratching my arm since. Only, since I don’t have nails, I’ve been scratching at it with a toothpick. It’s all red and irritated.

I hope mum’s check comes in the mail today…maybe she’ll buy me a pack of smokes (while they’re still on sale for 2.75!)… *hopeful look at the mail*

Originally published at Memoirs of a Nobody. You can comment here or there.

So mum and I are poor…this is not news. To supplument the 108$ I get in foodstamps, we run by the local food bank once a month. The problem with this is, more often then not, we have to throw out the food we get from them either the day of, or within a few (like three) days, because the food is molded (mostly the bread products and sometimes the dairy, canned food is not molded, but one can not live by green beans alone).

So after about a year of this (lazy, the name is Saity) and many times of discussing this matter with the food bank and other patrons, I write my usual letter to the editor.

…only this time it’s rejected as a ‘personal issue’.

Er…what?

So, I write the Opinion Editor back, a long letter indicating we’ve discussed this with both the local branch of the county food bank (where we get our food) and discovered it’s actually not just us, by discussin it with other patrons, and I fail to see how this is a ‘personal’ problem, if more then one family (especially those with children) are suffering the same fate of throwing out half the food they get, due to spoilage. I also inluded a bit about how moldy food and other spoilage is still dangerous in this country, especially for children, the elderly and low-income families who often don’t get the medical attention they may need.

…suddenly my letter is being sent to the City Editor and the Editor-in-Chief.

…what? How did…umm, I didn’t want to cause a huge drama…just give a heads up for people to watch what they buy for the food bank, not…this.

Worst possible outcome, the Riddle branch of the food bank is shut down, which would stress out the rest of the system as everyone (about 100 families) would have to go to other food banks, or possibly not get food at all to supliment their income.

I feel torn between people needing to know this (so they can check their food and not ingest harmful bacteria) and feeling like I ruined a hell of a lot for the families of the town.