Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Broke, Broken <3ed, and Breaking Away
A couple a days ago I had a "disagreement" with Padre as usual... but this one went somewhere. My Palm Pilot died and I bought another.
He saw it at church and looked up online how much it cost and decided it was way too much. He did the same thing about my camera.
He freaked out.
*I* freaked out back and told him I used my OWN money so it should not matter to him.
His answer was, as usual, that as dependent as I am on them, I DO NOT HAVE "MY OWN" MONEY.
I have heard this before. Mom and I have talked about it and I have said how I WANT to be, essentially CUT OFF just so it is none of the padres' business what I spend it on and be independent. But between how much my medications cost and how little I can work sometimes because of my medical problems, being even REMOTELY financially independent was just not a possibility.
Okay, here is what has changed. I finally got accepted to Medicaid for prescriptions. Therefore, $3 for stuff I used to pay $300 for. I can do that. Therefore, we had a little talk and I said stay out and he said not while I am responsible blah blah BLAH so I said you are NOT.
So, I will see how long my independence can withstand on a part-time job and a lot of pain. But I think it is a good thing. Anyway, I needed to do it (though my mom doesn't agree and is sad FOR me and dad is furious at AT me.). And except for rent right now because mom said dad is not going to charge me rent, I am paying my own way FINALLY. At least... as long as I can. Just may shop as often or ever leave my house.
The Broken Heart part of all this is just DUMB. There is a guy who's done bird shows for us before. He helped with the owls. He is cool (probably married, but whatever.) and funny and has a bunch of awesome birds (I know that's not a turn on for normal people, but hey, I have sugar gliders for children and carry a baby goat with me when I go shopping.). And, even thoough it is hard to tell in the owl slides he also happens to be rather cute and look like Fresno. So he comes over to us while we are cleaning up after robotics yesterday and starts chatting with me and I am talking all comfortable and sort of flirty. Then I get in the car and see myself in the mirror as I LOOK after a whole day of day camp of 11-14 year old boys and plaster of paris and 100 degree weather and catching tadpoles. I started to bawl.
I looked like crap on a crap pile and felt worse. The idea that I 1. talked to a boy pretty much because he looked like Fresno 2. still ever think about Fresno and 3. talked to a boy looking like me... being me. Yeah, I know how emo that is. But that's what I was feeling.
Followed that up with a really hard appointment with Dr. Apparently. Cried a bunch there. Like, non-stop. Went home with the puffiest red eyes, and my muscles aching. I cried into little Josie's fur and she cheered me up with her antics.
Seriously, that kid is hilarious. She just DANCES everywhere. She is a little beautiful animal. She plays on everything and play fights with anyone that moves. We play and she makes me giggle and stuff. What can I say? Little critters cure a host of ills... at least for an hour or so.
Makes me feel better about my plans to be a single "crazy cat lady" (but not with cats, with everything else) the rest of my life. Josie is adorable. My gliders are too. And I love my turtles and other critters mean a lot to me too. My little zoo is my solace.