notokinthehead











{October 20, 2013}   A Cat? A Dog? A Toddler?
Babe and I reading a book.

Babe and I reading a book.

My cat, Babe, doesn’t seem to know what she is. She looks like a cat, acts like a dog and sits like a toddler in it’s mother’s lap. However, Babe is my best friend in the world. She’s nonjudgmental, she loves me no matter what mood I’m in, she doesn’t nag or ask endless questions and she’s always loving. If Babe were a person instead of a cat she’d be my soul mate, not doubt.

This revelation comes at a time when I’m mourning a friendship that has recently ended. I was pretty much over it when it ended, it was me who said “enough, I can’t do this anymore”, but the former friend won’t let sleeping dogs lie. She is understandably angry about how the friendship suddenly ceased to be and it seems that every other day she is texting me something outrageous and accusing. This is very much the reason I had to end the friendship in the way that I did. She is mentally ill and refuses to seek help. Unfortunately, I cannot help her and I was hoping that by walking away like I did she would realize that her friends have disappeared one by one and by no one’s fault except her own, and somehow she would see that she needs to get help. So far it has not worked out that way. This evening while driving around and enjoying my music I received yet another unpleasant text from this woman. She is now accusing me of stealing $5,000 from her… last week. It’s been at least a month since I’ve seen her. She’s calling me every name in the book and then some and accusing me of stealing the money from her and threatening to call the police. Oh how I hope she does. It would make me feel better. I’ve done a lot for her in the past eight years and it really hurts that she would pull something like this. I wouldn’t take a penny from someone without asking and then I’d give them a dollar to pay them back. THAT’S the type of person I am. I guess the only thing I can do is ignore the texts and try to convince myself that she doesn’t matter and anyone who does matter won’t believe her absurd stories.

I’m learning that being a good person only gets you heartache and pain. At this rate I will be a bitter cat lady within the next five years.



I’ve been absent in the blogging world for about a week now. I’ve kind of taken a nose dive into depression. It’s been coming for a while but it seems it’s finally caught up with me. As usual it’s a smorgasbord of things that all came together and piled up until I can’t smile through the pain and misery any longer. For example: the back and shoulder pain has reached a point where it’s unbearable. My doctor gave me Vicodyn but informed me on Monday that she will not give me anymore (she’s only given me one script for 15). My nephew, who moved into my home six weeks ago, has several developmental disabilities that we were not prepared for and I just do not have the patience for him. Paperwork and reports are steadily piling up on my desk at the Fire Station and I don’t have the concentration to get it all done. I’m frustrated and angry with myself. I’m depressed. I spent the entire day in bed today and I’ve been taking the Vicodyn every 3-4 hours and I’m pretty sure that I’m going to be a full-on narcotic addict within the next week.
To top it all off I accidentally slammed my finger in an engine’s compartment door tonight, slicing it deeply and bruising the shit out of it, causing it to swell to the point where my knuckle is nonexistent. It sure seems like nothing goes right when you’re already depressed.

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et cetera