Allow me to vent....
‘You need to calm down…’
I don’t need to do shyt.
Some one told me that just the other night after he told me a story about one of his friends and his battle with the courts over child support. Sensitive topic. He knows this. And still had to nerve to tell me to calm down.
I needn’t do anything I don’t damn well feel like doing.
On top of everything else, G had to get his vaccinations and he was crying like the dickens for five hours straight… FIVE – HOURS-….STRAIGHT!!! My mom and I are at our wits end, I’m looking like who shot john and forgot to kill him, my mom is looking at me like, really, who did shoot john and forget to kill him?, while his father is up with some woman, freak-freak-freak. Now, I don’t care what the hell his father does… just take care of you kid. On top of all of that, I had 545 dollars to come out of my pocket with because G health insurance is saying he isn’t covered. WTF?!! A week prior, his dr.’s office called to say if this isn’t resolved, Grant couldn’t be seen. Come again? I went up in there, lay G on the table and started undressing him. Oh, yes, he was being seen… rather I had 545 dollars or not, he was going to receive whatever services it was that he had needed. Call the police, call the governor, call on Jesus, if ya want… He is always on my side, by the way, so you might want to try someone else. Best believe, when you get off the phone, I will be sitting right her with my naked child waiting to be served. I’ll be Joanna Q up in this piece, just watch me.
So I mentioned to his doctor about how it seems to me that his health was being held ransom for an effing measly 545 bucks. She asked me, ‘why whatever do you mean?’
I explained the phone call I received and so on, so forth. She was ‘appalled’ and that him not being able to be serviced wasn’t what was meant to be relayed. Anyway, she said in front of the receptionist, that it was only meant to be bought to my attention to make sure G is/get insured before bills racked up. Blah blah effing blah. I was through yesterday. And for you to tell me I need to calm down after I tell you all of this….
Kiss my arse!
Anyway, I forgot to tell you all about my wig. It has so taking on a life of its own… after giving birth to G, my hair fell out. I hadn’t been eating well while I was breastfeeding (double whammy), I wasn’t sleeping at all, and I was worrying about my decision to bring him into this world amongst other things. My hair literally fell out over night. I would wash it and wads of hair would be in the tub, in the comb, on the sink, in the towel, on my hands. That made me stress even more. So what did my informed undeniably genius ass do? Put braids in. That clean the rest right on off. So I went to a dermy and she shook her head. She knew everything I did to my hair/myself during/after pregnancy. She knew I dyed it, I wasn’t eating right, knew I’d stressed my edges with braids and that I stressing myself… she just knew. I love her. She treated my hair and gave me a lecture and then she sent me on my way with a pat on my ass yelling ‘go get ‘em, tiger!’. I went wig shopping later that night just to see if I can actually rock one. Needless to say, I can. I rock a lot of things well… ask Grant... and my ex's about their worlds.
My wig is FIERCE. It is a short beetles look but it looks pretty okay on me. I’m entertaining the though of getting a whole wardrobe of wigs but I fear the reliance. My mom and I look like twins now… she rocks wigs too. The older I get, the more Ms. L. I’m becoming. (Vomits in mouth… just a lil bit). * wink*
