Welcome to my world!

My life's been crazy since my Daddy moved in with me immediately after my mother's death in October 2010. My one and only kiddo headed to college at Carolina at the end of August. So...I lived on my own, for the first time in my life, for a total of a blissful six weeks. Then, I started the parenting gig with my dad. He's a combination of a grouchy old man, a surly teenager and a temperamental toddler. Needless to say, I get very close to the brink of insanity sometimes. I get through life by finding the humor in difficult circumstances. And for some reason, I wind up in the weirdest situations. I couldn't make this stuff up. So I wind up having lots and lots crazy adventures which make great stories to share with my friends. Writing about my life is so therapeutic. My ramblings range from funny to sad to angry (full of cuss words) to sweet. While my focus is dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a parent to my Daddy, I have lots of random, totally unrelated posts. Whatever's on my mind. I love to make people laugh, and I'm happy to think my readers will get my strange sense of humor. And maybe, people who are in my situation will be encouraged. That's all I can hope for...

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

A Long Overdue Rant, or Going Postal

Here goes. Today, June 15th, is the deadline for the second quarter federal income tax estimated payment. I did my thing this morning. Figured out how much I needed to send and compared it with how much I could send. Happily, the former was less than the latter. So I transferred cash from my biz account to my personal, wrote the check, tore off the 1040 ES voucher, put it in the envelope and adhered a stamp, and gave it to The Daddler to put in the mailbox. He loves doing that.

The mail is a big thing to him. He sees everything that goes on from the window in the living room. And as soon as the mailman comes, he high-tails it out there, and if I'm home, he brings it to me. Today, I was in the kitchen, peeling potatoes, when he came in and told me they didn't pick up the mail. Shit. I asked him if they'd left anything. Negative. We always get mail. So I jumped in the car in search of the mail truck. No luck. I was cussing the whole way. Fuck that mother fucker. Of all days to be a douche bag. I'm sure by the time I circled 10 blocks, I could've made it to the post office, but the problem is that you have to have the mail in by 5 or so. Because god forbid, the lazy bureaucrats could stay late. The problem was that it was 5:50.

So I called the number in the phone book. A local number. It had a message referring me to an 800 number. Which I called. After getting through four branches of the phone tree, a bureaucrat came on the line. I explained my dilemma. She asked my zip code. Then she told me I could go to the Germantown post office. It would be open 10 more minutes. Fuck this shit. I unloaded. Told her to call the dispatcher to send idiot mail carrier back to get my payment. She said they couldn't do that. I started ranting, sans cuss words, and in the middle of it all, I heard the dial tone. She'd hung up on me. And I hadn't even threatened to strap a bomb to my chest and find her. I said that to my doc about United Healthcare once and he said he'd go with me. Of course, for the record, I'd never commit an act of violence. In fact, I'm a pacifist. Kinda. At least I think Ghandi was a good guy. In spite of my Republican tendancies. I have a feeling FF and I are going to butt heads over the election. Which should be interesting. He starts on these rants and I just sing a song in my head until he finishes. Then I tell him a dirty joke to distract him. It works every time.

I hope he doesn't call tonight. Because if he does, I'm going to start in about our fucked up government. How labor unions are not only unnecessary but destructive to the economy. That the death penalty should be enforced within a week of sentencing. Particularly for monsters who make their twelve-year old daughters help them cut their mother up into little pieces. After years of molesting said daughters. And blaming the murder on the child. Saying he was just trying to cover it up to protect her. Damn, what a loving father. I swear, I'd like to flip the switch, pull the hatch, shoot the gun or plunge the needle. And I hate that my tax dollars (which will be late thanks to the fuckin' idiots we call civil servants) are wasted on feeding, clothing, educating, heating and cooling these scumbags.

Given the way I feel now, maybe I should join the Tea Party. I have a feeling that would be a deal breaker with Dude. And that's why I hope he doesn't call tonight. Because I do have a scintilla of hope that he's The One. Not gonna bet the house on it, though.

Ok, I feel better. I hope Homeland Security doesn't see the "strap a bomb to my chest" thing and come arrest me.

On a lighter note, that reminds me. My sweet girlfriend, Melanie (the Jewish Carol), called today and told me she'd been arrested. Her husband is an attorney, so I didn't panic. Turns out, it was one of those silly fundraiser things. She wanted $5. I gave her $50. She rang the bell. I love her. She said she wants us to get together this summer. It's been well over a year since I went to Hagerstown to see her and Roger. I swear, he and Dude are so much alike, it's scary. But then, she and I are kindred spirits, too.

I love that girl. She's amazing. Humble beginnings, but forged an incredible path. She's a pediatric dentist - how cool is that?

Ok, gotta run. Need to sublimate. Or something...

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