"The Vacation"

I was married to my ex-husband for 19 years. During this time he obtained 2 degrees, and often worked 2 jobs. I stayed home with the kids for a majority of this time.He was very responsible and was relatively uncomplaining. Things have changed since then.

He has lost 3 jobs in 5 years. The first job he had held for about 3 years. A nice management job with an good income. He wrecked the company truck while drunk. The second job, though not quite as desirable, was a "sort of" management job nonetheless. He lost that one for letting his drunk friends hang around. The last job, (a management job) well, I am not sure what happened there. But I have a few guesses and they all revolve around drinking.

I got a call a few weeks ago from my ex-husband. (he had been drinking of course) After beating around the bush for a moment. He told me "I need some money for a plane ticket to go back to Arizona and get my stuff out of storage, uh, I mean, I need some money for a plane ticket to Arizona so I won't be HOMELESS".
He then proceeded to tell me about how his girlfriend had kicked him out and this time it was for good and if I didn't get him the money that night, he would be homeless. "I am going to be homeless if I don't get the money tonight and I don't want to be homeless" he stated. I very calmly told him I could not get him any money at that exact moment and would have to wait to check my account to see what my financial situation was. I already knew I didn't have the money, but as usual, his panic being infectious and ALMOST believing him for a second, I wanted to check anyway.

The next day I had already decided I was not going to give him money or even acknowledge his phone call. He called and spoke to my daughter and apparently had received a REPRIEVE FROM HIS HOMELESS STATE. He was staying with his mom. He still wanted money. I did not call him back.

A few days later, I heard thru my sister that he had indeed gone back to Arizona. My sister had driven my son 3 hours to where he was staying for a tearful goodbye.

A couple of weeks later, my sister called worrying about him and why he hadn't called. My son lives with her (she is home-schooling him) and he was upset. I advised her to call his ex-girlfriend and see if she had heard from him. My sister called and sure enough, my ex had gone to Arizona for a week and come back. Yes, he's back and no he is not homeless. His girlfriend let him come back. (she always does)

He had hit various people up for money even his ex-wife and her family members. Someone apparently had given it to him. Remember, he was going to be HOMELESS.

I have been thinking about it. When he called asking for money, he was asking for enough for a round trip ticket. Why did he need a round trip ticket if he wasn't coming back? My theory?

He went on vacation.

Adjustment Disorder

I recently moved some new apartments. I have returned home to Mississippi after being away for a number of years. I moved to these apartments, sight unseen, because they are near my daughter's house. Big mistake

(Disclaimer here for those of you out there who upon discovering I have moved to Mississippi are immediately thinking red neck, white trash. While there are, of course, white trash people here and red necks, it is no more so here than in any other state. I could go on but it would be pointless, because I know, I KNOW YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME)

My daughter lives in a nice part of town. A new part of the Jackson metro area that is being developed. Unfortunately, my apartment complex is part of the old development not the new. It is basically a bricked up trailor park.

I walked outside the other day and across the way, I see a skateboard ramp on the side walk. Nothing unusual about that right? I am not a real observant person, ordinarily I would not have even noticed a skateboard on a sidewalk. The thing that caught my attention was the people surrounding the skateboard ramp. There was a kid about a hundred feet down the sidewalk, building speed, heading towards the ramp. There was a little girl about 6 years old lying directly in front of the ramp, her head right under the where the skateboarder was expected to ramp. And there was this LADY (use this loosely) standing right at the expected point of impact, just watching. Apparently she was a part of the whole skateboard - ramp event. I saw the kid speeding towards the prone child and I yelled "NOOOOO" at the top of my lungs. The speeding kid stopped, other Mom's in the area stuck their heads out and yelled at their kids and the LADY that was participating in the potential disaster, slunk off.
Oh, and the lady who lives directly across the parking lot from me? She sends her four year old little boy to my porch to steal cigarette butts. Nice, huh?
That is an example of some of the people that live in my apartment building.

I live in constant fear that they will discern that I think they are trash. That discernment could result in damage to my vehicle, apartment, whatever. I am trying to conceal my distaste and not be such a snob.

But it is not really my fellow apartment dwellers that are bothering me today. I am just in a foul mood altogether. I hate to move, switch jobs etc. and I have done all in the last 60 days. I am having an ADJUSTMENT DISORDER. If you are not familiar with the term adjustment disorder, it is a psychiatric/mental health term used to describe a person having problems with life changes. It is also used whenever they don't really know what is wrong with someone, or when the diagnosis is one that the insurance companies might not cover. (I used to work in a counseling office) I am adjusting and if my adjustment does not go smoothly it will develop into a disorder.

Have you ever had a problem adjusting? adjusting? adjusting?
have you ever had a problem adjusting
when you walk outside
your back door

Has everything ever changed? all at once? all the same?
Has everything ever changed seemed strained

Have you ever had a problem adjusting? adjusting? adjusting?
Have you ever had a problem adjusting
to the people you adore

My 19 year old daughter read this post. (she is my editor and chief critic) After the reading, she announced that I am and always have been grouchy, irritable and just plain weird. (she hated the little tacked on poem by the way) In light of this newly relayed information, maybe I don't have and adjustment disorder but a full blown PERSONALITY DISORDER. And for family members reading this post, please know that I am very happy to be back and I longed for you while I was away.

"Cow Girl"

If you read my story about the cat suffering from post-traumatic syndrome, I mentioned a recent relocation. I moved back to my home state of Mississippi from Arizona a few months ago. It was a planned move that I had been trying to get the guts up to do for about 2 years. Unable to obtain new employment long distance, I quit my great job, packed up the cat and drove across 3 states.

It's great to be back. I love the South, but now I have to find gainful employment. I am employed as a temp right now and the search for a permanent job is ongoing but I have ruled out at least one of my job ideas. When I first moved here, I was "brainstorming" job possibilities and one of the more interesting ones that occurred to me was to sell cars.

I see them in the news ads all the time. They offer a sign-on bonus to moral, honest, people, with no car selling experience who will sit in their training classes and become a car selling phenomenon. "I can do that!!!" I thought. I was all set to embark on a car salesperson career until I remembered the WHO commercials.

When I was growing up, some of the more irritating TV commercials were for car sales . The car salesperson would stand out in the car lot, point and talk about different cars in a rapid constricted speech. (Much like an auctioneer) At the end of this commercial the sales guy would suddenly cup his hands over his mouth and yell "WHOOOOOoooooo". These commercials irritated me endlessly and being a hypersensitive youth growing up in the south (with this paranoia that the entire world is laughing because they think we are horrible hicks) and having to suffer thru the horrible WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooo call when visiting grandparents calling cows, these commercials made an impact on my young mind. (The whooooo noise is one farmer's make when calling the cows, there are different variations that send different messages, a secret cow language.)

After, remembering the horrible Who commercials, I can no longer seriously consider a career in auto sales. Every time I contemplate car sales as a serious job possibility, a vision pops in my head. The vision is me, in a commercial, dressed as a cow-girl, gushing car sales rhetoric then closing with the infamous WHOOOOOOOooooo sound. Not a flattering thought.


No, I think I will probably count pennies until I find a good job. Remember the ads for salespeople, the good honest people pitch. I don't know how honest or moral it would have been anyway to sign up for car sales classes for a bonus, and then maybe escape with cash in fist once it was established that I was an awful car salesperson and or hated the whole thing.

The cat with post-traumatic stress syndrome

I have this cat (let's just call him Brink) who is suffering difficulties. He is a very, very, large cat with long hair and tabby coloring. He apparently suffers from post-traumatic stress and I am thinking on sending him on a cat sabbatical.

Some background on "Brink". We obtained Brink from outside of a Wal-Mart a few years ago. Me and my now ex-husband were leaving the store after compulsively shopping. We spotted a little girl sitting on a folding chair with a box on the ground in front of her. There were kittens in the box. After Oooing and Ahhing awhile, I had the bright idea, of obtaining a kitten for the kids for Christmas. The main point of the pet thing was always to help teach the children responsibility and make me a popular family member. (at the time we already had 2 dogs and guinee (sp?) pigs which had done nothing to accomplish the responsibility factor) For whatever reason, I did not remember that cats usually live about 18 years.

Fast forward a few years. I am now divorced and the cat lives with me and my very pregnant daughter. Since she is pregnant, she of course, can not change the litter box, etc. My thought has always been that with pets, when kids get married or leave for college, etc. they should take the pets WITH THEM. That is an example of a stupid parent thought. I should be grateful I at least, did not inherit the guinea pigs (a sad story, they expired under traumatic circumstances) I was the one to find there not quite dead limp bodies, another story) or the dogs. (One went to live with the ex's girlfriend and the other escaped to I am sure greener pastures)

I digress. One night while packing to move, (my kids were already out of state) I heard this unholy screeching noise. I ran outside and there was the cat standing by the parking lot with his back arched making this horrible sound. There was a car parked nearby with some laughing teenagers inside. I immediately made the assumption that they had attacked or molested the cat. The cat at this time was a very sensitive subject between me and my children. I have never made a secret about my feeling towards pets in general. I like them, they are nice as long as someone else feeds them, pets and cleans their waste products. My pregnant daughter was convinced that I was somehow going to do away with this cat so I would not have to move him. (Ok, I know right now you are thinking unpleasant thoughts about my previous pet dealings, meaning the guinea pigs. You think I murdered them right? Wrong. I tried to save those pigs short of performing mouth to mouth resuscitation (sp?) on them.)

I ran up to the kids in the car and immediately begin to scream at them. "What did you do to my Cat? (did I mention it was about 1:00 in the morning) I went to the apartment they lived in and began to bang on the door demanding to speak to their father. They meanwhile ran in and locked the door acting as if they thought I had lost my mind.

I momentarily gave up on my qwest for justice and ran inside where the cat was. He had this horrible, indescribable cat look on his face. I didn't know what had happened to him but I knew it was traumatic. He was having a hard time walking and was shaking his head every few minutes. I didn't want to spend MONEY on him, especially since I was going to be moving in a few days. I called the Vet er and asked them questions and agonized. I called my friend Sharon who kept asking me if he was panting with his mouth open (?). The next day, I called work and told them I was going to be late. I was convinced those kids had run over the cat or accosted him in some horrible manner and that he was going to die. Brink had outgrown his cat carrier a loooooong time ago(I did buy one the next day for the move) , so I wrapped him in a towel. (I read online this was a good way to transport pets to the vet?) (This cat is the same cat that WALKS across my face or jumps over my head when I am asleep in order to wake me up if I do not respond to the alarm clock. He is not a calm mellow cat) I put him in the car and drove him to PetSmart. THey did not have a vet in so I took them to the Vet er. While on the way to the er, the cat starts panting with his mouth open. I am crying and freaking out remembering my friend's questions from the night before (Is he panting with his mouth open?) Convinced he was going to die in the car while we were driving, I went speeding recklessly down the road. We get to the vet and they calmly announce there is nothing wrong with the cat but question my care of the cat since he has hair balls (does anyone else have a cat that gets hair balls? I periodically have to shave his hair because it gets so long it mats, and no, this does NOT mean no one pets the cat. My daughter totes him around like he is a baby.) Indignantly I stated that I was AWARE of the cat balls, since I am the one who has to bath the freak from time to time and shave his hair. THe doctor then pointed out as if Iwere the most horrible person in the world, that cats hate water and she would never bathe her cat. (excuse me, his hair is so long it gets poop on it sometimes and he LIKEs baths) Ok they apparently think I am this crazy woman who took time off from work and out of her day to brink this huge 30 pound cat to them. I advised them that SOMETHING bad happened to this cat and that I thought he had been run over. I told them about the evil laughing teenagers. I told them about the panting with the mouth wide open. The doctor (in all her wisdom looked to be maybe 25) had NEVER HEARD OF EVIL LAUGHING TEENAGERS that attacked cats, especially girl teenagers. (they were female ok) She was not impressed with the panting with the mouth open. They offered to take xrays (my total bill by this time was already $180 for them to tell me nothing was wrong.

I declined their offer and prepared to take the cat home to die. I went back out to the reception area to pay while they wrapped up whatever they were doing with my cat. They then, apparently having second thoughts about my sanity, re-checked the cat. The dr found a swollen abcess on the cats face from a cat fight. (Why it swelled up so fast, with no blood, I have no clue) They shave the area, gave me antibiotics ($40 more) and sent us home.

I took magazines to the neighbors teenagers and sheepishly apologized. My friend Sharon expressed relief that she had not taken my cat to her house. (she had offered, she has a million pets and is involved in animal rescue) SHe then told me, based on my hysterical description of the cat's behavior, (the weird cat expression, trouble walking, shaking his head, etc.,) she had planned to take my cat and euthanize it. The cat and I drove 1500 miles the next week as we migrated to our new home in the South. (that is another horrible story)

Now the post traumatic stress thing. Poor Brink is only just now some two months later beginning to slowly recover. He is a shadow of his former self. He no longer waaaaalks across my face. The cat refuses to go outside more than a few minutes at the time and only if I am with him. He still shakes his head from time to time with an odd look on his face. And, yes I do still have to bathe him from time to time (2 days ago) (Where are those kids who are supposed to care for the pets until their demise, in sickness and in health till death do they depart). Did I mention wanting to send the cat on a sabbatical? That was just wishful thinking.

Final Note:
Anyone who knows my friend Sharon knows she is a consumate animal lover. She participated in an animal rescue effort after one of the fires Arizona had last year, and area vets sometimes send her animals for "foster care". She cries when she reads a book and an animal dies, maybe not so much when the human goes. She would not have really euthanized my cat unless it were absolutely necessary.