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Friday, October 24, 2014

Sad and creepy - story of my life, I swear...


Friend of mine sent me this joke :

Dorrie : I really hate my in-laws.
Me : Well, just eat the potatoes and gravy.

Sad and creepy, but it made me laugh. I needed a laugh.


Neighbors informed me today that FIL hung out with G the AHole drug dealer twice last week – both times during my appointments with the VA. I can’t even care. I’ll just start taking Dearest Son with me, I’ll have to soon anyway. If MIL can’t be bothered to say anything to her husband, and FIL can’t be bothered to curb his prescription abuse enough to keep from pounding their house down his neck, there’s not much I can do.


Besides, I got enough on my plate. Also today, Beloved Hubby commented that, for all the work and money it’ll take to get us out of here, we could probably save the house. My heart stopped. I know him well enough to be aware that this deceptively simple statement indicates that he’s been thinking about it for some time. I was rendered speechless for about ten minutes and I couldn’t even look at him. I know how over-dramatic this sounds, but I swear it’s true – I could just feel the darkness closing over my shoulders, pulling me back. Decades of this, endless long years ran past my vision, and it was all I could do to keep from jumping from the car. So tempted…


He was rather surprised at my reaction and backpedalled furiously. I told him I knew it was a shame to throw away the security of a home, but it’s not our home and it’s not worth the effort it’d take to make it one. We clearly can’t trust his parents to honor any of their promises, and if we stay, they stay – and we’re now completely responsible for them, without them having to pay a penny for anything. Everything will be completely on our backs. If they’ve given up on this pit, why is he still hanging on ?  And the last I heard, they’d managed to get behind between $4 and $6K. Even moving into a house would cost half that, plus there’s no way we could even come up with the low end of that figure, and that says Wells Fargo is remotely willing to deal with it or us. And I reinforced my intent to never live with FIL again. He backed up but without reassuring our goals at all, or even indicating that we still truly agree on our current course, so now I’m wondering if we’re gonna survive their latest mess. I can’t even look at the potatoes now.



The final twist was that they stole the last can of Dearest’s ravioli. The one that was there yesterday. I am not staying here. I am not living with my ILs ever again. What Beloved does is up to him. 

1 comment:

  1. You don't eat a kid's ravioli and expect to stay in his parent's good graces. That's beyond the final straw.

    ReplyDelete