Oh, it’s one of those days

Well, I was all excited to show you what I’d been up to lately, but I woke up this morning to find that the Butcher’s car had been repossessed.

Yep. Repossessed. Take away. Silently in the night, without even a chance to get the cell phone out of it.

Sure, the dog will bark at the neighbors coming and going as they do all the time, but she didn’t bother to wake anyone up to let us know they were carting the Butcher’s car off.

So, he’s got my car so that he can get to work and I had to ask one of my co-workers for a ride home.

Up until that point, I thought the whole thing was rather funny in a “what the fuck could possibly be next?” way. But she didn’t find it funny and said I was enabling him. And that made me mad and so, of course, I cried.

But it still is funny in a “what the fuck?” way. I mean, fucking duh, of course it’s upsetting. Christ, the boy doesn’t have a job that pays him enough to pay the bills and up until now he’s been able to arrange his social life in such a way as to be lively enough that he could avoid thinking about his problems and now, here it is. Everything is come due.

He’s still got a job that doesn’t afford him enough money to pay his bills. I just signed another year-long lease for this place. I still need him to cover the paltry shit he’s got to cover and minimum credit card payments are on the verge of doubling, which, as you may have guessed, is going to really affect me. Because I am an idiot, but not the biggest one in our house. I mean, of all the moments he could fuck things up this bad, why not now?

Am I enabling him? It’s just a side question, but I have to tell you that the answer is “I don’t give a fuck.” I want the money he can give me when I need it. And as much as it sucks to watch him fuck up repeatedly this much–I mean why the fuck won’t he take care of himself?–I still need him here, contributing in his very small way. Even if it’s “bad” for him, fuck that. I’m not his mom. It’s not my job to do what’s right for him.

It’s my job to keep a roof over our heads and a car under my ass and food in the bellies of the mammals in the house. If I need him here, even driving my car to work every damn day until he can find another fulltime job on a bus route, he can’t leave.

Plus, seriously, where the fuck would he go? Back to Mom & Dad’s house? Well, take the small bedroom, buddy, because if you go, I have to go.

See, it is funny. I’m crying, but it’s funny as hell.

5 thoughts on “Oh, it’s one of those days

  1. Christ, that sucks. And your co-worker had really crummy timing in her efforts to analyze you. Geez. Wish I could sweep in and make it all go away, like with a sack of cash and a gun to shoot your brother. (maybe just a water gun, but with awesome velocity)

  2. Aw, jeeeeez, Aunt B. I’m so sorry. And yeah, thanks to the coworker for the armchair analysis.

  3. So sorry B. I wish I could do something to help.

    I love it when disaster strikes and people start pointing the finger of blame. If they can’t be helpful, they should shut up.

  4. There’s nothing really to be done. I mean, in the long list of shitty things that have happened to my family, this probably isn’t even in the top ten.

    It’s just that I’d like someday to feel secure and calm and in control. But it often seems that, just when I think I’m seeing that possibility, bam, something else happens.

    So, throw some good thoughts our way; I’d appreciate that.

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