Living in the ghetto has its perks. Oh wait, no it doesn’t. Some idiot, while attempting to do his own brand of wiring in an adjacent apartment, cut our fiber-optic lines, thus murdering our internet in foul spirit.
How do I live without internet? Not very well.
It doesn’t help that I have been completely unmotivated at life. This also occurs when living in the ghetto with crappy insurance that forgets to mention that your policy has expired and now I can’t afford the most essential of my medicines, Zoloft. So now I am an angry monster beast most of the time, and I just cannot seem to help myself.
So I started writing this post a few days ago, but got distracted with other more pressing issues. Now! however, I am sitting at Paradise Bakery & Cafe enjoying a most delicious chai tea latte with soy milk and lots of caffeine that I have been missing (my headaches, mostly) and a big, fat, cheesy bagel with cream cheese. Yum yum chop. Back to my story.
Have I mentioned yet that the ghetto sucks? Well, it does. The other night I was lying down to sleep when Rudy came rushing in, asking me if I’d heard the gunshots. Of course I didn’t hear them, the AC was on, my fan was on full-blast, and the baby monitor was hissing away because there was a fan running full-blast in their room as well. If the sound of so much air can’t put me to sleep, then I’d be doomed. So anyway, no, I did not hear the gunshots. Not that this was unusual, because we went a Chinese buffet a couple of weeks ago for lunch and gunshots occurred in the alleyway beside it. In the middle of broad daylight. I just laid my head back down, grunted and attempted to go back to sleep.
Needless to say, within fifteen minutes, Rudy was back in the room telling me to come check out the mass quantity of police running around the complex. That is also nothing new. We’ve seen them before, though without the accompanying whizzing bullets of doom. This place sucks.
I must admit, though, that I have been extremely traumatized by an event that occurred at my neighborhood Safeway store. The girls and I went there to do some quick shopping, and although I love being annoyed to death by my children, the trip went fairly smoothly, until we attempted to leave the store.
As soon as I pushed the cart out the door and hit the divets that lead to the parking lot, Delaney, in her carseat, flipped right out of the cart and onto the concrete. Face first.
I can barely remember the incident it happened so quickly. I was certain in that split-second that she was dead. All I could see were her little arms sticking out of the side of the carseat. My cart drifted off into the parking lot, and I don’t even know what Afton’s reaction was, because I was too busy shrieking. I flipped the carseat over and Delaney started crying and I could see had a scrape on her head (the bar had been in the very back position as I couldn’t see over it in the store, lending no protection whatsoever in the fall). I pulled her out of the seat and clutched her like a broken ragdoll as I cried, completely mortified and terrified. People were crowding all around me, and an older lady who was a nurse came and checked Delaney out. She seemed to be remarkably OK. So I slowly put her back in the seat and a nice, younger couple helped me to my van, which was a whopping three feet away from where the incident happened.
I cried all the way home I was so humiliated and upset. I couldn’t believe that had happened. She was locked into the damn cart, after all, so how did the whole thing manage to flip out so easily? I may never know. Delaney developed a huge lump and redness on her forehead, plus marks that showed the divets on the concrete. I had her sleep with me in my bed that night, because I was scared she would die in the night from a concussion or something. But she did fine. She got over the whole thing within ten minutes. I’m still having nightmares. I’ll never go back to that store again. Ugh.
Besides all the trauma, I am fairly certain I am living in an animal farm. Between two kids shitting and pissing everywhere, and two cats shitting and pissing everywhere (OK, so it’s just their box, but I have to clean it, just like those damnable diapers), we now have two dogs, shitting and pissing everywhere. Literally. I officially hate puppies. We got them for free, and for a good reason which I am not at liberty to disclose, but still, all these animals in a barely 900sq ft living space is like hell on earth. These dogs aren’t little, either. One a Shepard mix and the other a Lab mix. The shepard, Shadow, is already quite large, and quite destructive. He literally ATE Grandma’s screen door, after ripping the frame out of its track. Lucy, the lab, just can’t seem to figure out how to use a puppy pad. All those nasty animal odors are really getting to my super-smelling pregnant self. Most of the time I can’t eat because all I want to do is barf.
Have I mentioned that I cannot wait to escape the ghetto? Well I can’t. It cannot come soon enough!