But it's my blog, so fuck it.
I think the car accident pushed me to the edge of insanity. I was doing okay with the husband being gone, I was hanging in there. Then the major changes came down from my company and I was upset for a couple of days and got over it. But then that woman ran the stop sign, taking my car away from me, and I lost my shit.
I've been really nervous driving for the first time in my life. I see people constantly doing stupid shit - running stop signs and red lights, pulling out into oncoming traffic, etc. And I get really, really angry because their stupidity is compromising MY safety and well-being.
My little sister has become a traffic vigiliante, which I love. She got herself some glass chalk, and when someone parks all crooked and what not in the parking lot at her work, she'll write things like "You park like an asshole" on their driver's side window. Guess what. You can't just wipe that shit off with your sleeve, which means that person had to drive home with that written on their car. Public humiliation is a great deterrant to doing stupid things. My sister is a genius.
The other day I saw a woman trying to park this big-ass SUV. I don't remember what it was, but it was much, much, much bigger than mine and much taller. Like a Ford Explorer on full-size truck tires or something. Either way, she couldn't park the damn thing even though the space next to her was vacant. All I could think was if I had some glass chalk, I would wait for her to go inside, and then write on the car window "If you can't park it, you shouldn't drive it."
Seriously, I could spend my whole summer driving around watching for stupid and reckless people and then write messages on their car windows telling them what fucking douchebags they are. I'm considering making it my new hobby.
Anyway, so yesterday my nerves were all sorts of shot from driving around in my mom's car and people just driving around me like this town is the site of a demolition derby. I come home to discover that Husband's Scary Reptile is hungry. Which means I have to feed it. Which means I have to open the cage and insert dead animals. Which means I have to put my life at risk for a few minutes. Yikes.
I didn't have the dead animals to feed her last night and planned to go get them today (which I did). She was all sorts of active in her cage, and while I was trying to sleep last night it suddenly occurred to me that she might break out of her cage in order to get some food. Husband has assured me multiple times that she can't break out of this cage, but I'm not so sure. And we have cats. For scary reptile, cats = food. Their litter box is down in the basement where scary reptile is kept. In my extreme anxiety, I felt the need to go downstairs, get the litterbox, bring it upstairs, and lock the cat door so the cats can't get to the basement. Just in case. Only then was I able to sleep.
But today I have to feed her once the dead animals are dethawed. And I am very, very nervous about doing this. I am making Husband call me and I am going to put him on speaker phone while I do it. I figure if I stop responding to him, he'll know something is wrong and can hang up and dial 911 and animal control.
Fuck. I really want him to get rid of this pet. I can't deal with losing sleep over it anymore.
So right now I am nervous to drive, depressed because I don't have my car or my husband, anxious about feeding this damned reptile, and on the border of going insane.
And if I get the job at SFRSHS West, I will have to MOVE this scary reptile to the other side of the country. My heart pounds just at the thought.