For the days when it's just too much

I realize I've been on a vicious cycle of bitterness, sadness, depression and my very own "pity -Soul Train dance line," but sometimes you just have to say Fuck It.

This past weekend was too much drama for me.

Friday night I was dead tired and decided to stay in. So Saturday morning I get up, all re-energized and crap ready to drive to the gym. I get in the Silver Bullet, aka the Civi, and the damn thing doesn't start. But at least I was in my driveway. I think it's my battery. So I call roadside Ass-ist and when the tow truck driver comes he acts annoyed that he has to give me a jump. Meanwhile I'm on the phone with Dear Old Sometimes Judgemental Dad and I snap at him because of the Spanish Inquisition he is trying to start with me over the phone. Tow truck driver jumps the battery and tells me to let it run for awhile and that it should be OK and I wouldn't need for it to get towed. Fine, I'm out of the woods right? No. I let the car run for 30 min and while I'm doing this my Dad calls back to inform me my great Uncle Johnny (who I barely knew) died that night. He asks if I'm planning to go to the funeral in Florida and I honestly say, "Well I just found out about this from you so I don't know what I'll be doing." He of course took this as being snappish.

So my car has been running forever and now I'm bummed about Uncle Johnny. I was a little unsure about what to do next, so I of course call Malibu Ken. OK OK it was an act of desperation and I clearly gave in by "petting the puppy" (see Cail's comment from 1 post ago). MK thinks I should be fine but if the car doesn't start after I turn it off it might be the alternator or I need a new battery. He offers to come over and follow me as I drop my car off in the parking lot of the dealership and also try to buy a battery. The idea sounded nice..... but you know what? He's not my boyfriend anymore and I need to stop depending on him for things. So I politely declined his offer and said goodbye. I turn the car off about 5 min later. I immediately try to re-start it and whoopsie-daisies-fuck me in the ass-donkey shit it won't start. I call the love of my life from college who informs me that I'm being too dramatic and negative about the day and I need to go for a run. I immediately hang up on him in mid-conversation because I don't feel like hearing his "Dude-Mantra" of "just go on a run" or "drink a few beers." Sometimes it's just more complicated than that. Anyway, I was supposed to go to 2 parties that night but I was so drained I decided to order pizza and curl up into bed with Weeds Season 1 Disc 2 courtesy of Netflix.

Cut to Sunday morning. I'm supposed to meet Mom for lunch in Hoodbridge. Get in the car and lo-and-fucking-behold it won't start. My roommate gives me a jump and my car is running and I decided to put my life in danger for a free meal, "Borat", and holiday shopping at Potomac Mills. I drove down 95 on what I later found out was less than 10 volts of battery power and got to my Mom's house. Again, as soon as I turned off the car it wouldn't re-start. My Mom calls her friend who says he will go to the auto parts store, buy a battery, and install it while we do our girlie stuff. I am forever indebted to this family friend of ours.

So before we head to the mall, my Mom informed me that my Dad called her and he was "piping-hot" at my general attitude towards him the last couple of weeks. I also gave him his bday present a few days late. He damn well knows I am going through a break-up, but just like a Dude he says, "Get over it." So now my Dad is peeved at me, my battery is dead, and so is my Uncle Johnny. All there was left to do was shop. And say Fuck It very loudy.

My Mom decided to show her concern for me and my general disposition by buying my X-mas gifts in front of me. No surprises for me on X-mas, but I got a nice Ralph Lauren Polo sweater, a white gold and diamond bracelet, various Sweet Pea products (my preferred B&B Works scent), one black and one hot pink pashmina. For the record I'm defintely NOT complaining about that!

And at the end of yesterday my car got fixed and is now running. I would have been supremely sad if it had puttered out. I've had it for almost 6 years and haven't even gotten the chance to have sex in it.

But most of all I am sad that my Dad thinks I'm a brat and that I don't care about him, which is clearly not the case. One thing I have never been good with his family drama. It just cuts to the core you know?? So today I hope to get a grip on some things. Call Dad to apologize (for what I don't know but I guess I just have to swallow my pride and do it). Definitely write the family friend a thank you email. And yes, perhaps work on a plan for "utilizing" the Civi's backseat.