LIFE LOOKS DIFFERENT WHEN YOU'RE "DOWN"

WARNING: R RATED POST, NO ONE UNDER 18 ALLOWED!

My oldest son once told me, "Geeze Mom, it must be nice to be blissfully oblivious to everything around you except what you want to see!" and now I wholeheartedly agree with his observation. It is nice to look at life through 'optimistic' lenses.

Unfortunately, I've been wavering on the brink of 'depression' for the past several weeks (oh, what the hell...there ain't no brink to it...I've been lower than a snakes belly in a wagaon rut).

When my Dad was about my age, he suddenly started thinking that the world was going to hell in a hand basket and him along with it. No matter how much I tried to cheer him up...he was negative and dismissive of all the sunshine I was trying to use to warm his spirits up a little. It wasn't long before he was admitted into the looney bin (OK, it was the psychiatric ward of the neighborhood hospital) where they gave him some downer medicine that made him seem like a zombie to me. Here was this robust, obnoxious and mouthy guy (if you wanted an opinion on something, he'd give it to you...) with the Irish temper aimed mostly at inanimate objects suddenly prone to appear in the fetal position. It was hard to take...and it took him three months to pull himself out of these doldrums and get back up to speed with the human race.

I've been pretty much convinced that I was heading to the same place, sitting in a chair somewhere unpleasant and staring into space as drool slid down my chin without notice. I wouldn't be writing if that had happened, but It's not really over til the fat lady sings and I haven't felt like singing lately so the jury is still out.

God I feel sorry for those people who have to go through life with the 'half empty glass' point of view, because I have had that sort of view for about three weeks now and I am even sick of myself over it. I have got to be one of the most optimistic people I know, and for some reason (call it a sweet spirit if you want) I tend to see the best in people instead of the worst. That is the beauty of being "blissfully oblivious" 99 per cent of your life....but not recently, no sireee...I have been feeling and thinking just the opposite and it sucks to be like that....for me anyway.

First of all, there is the restaurant business...and let's face it, I wanted to buy my husband Allen, and my son in law William "A JOB". William has been complaining like an old lady for months that he is sick and tired of the construction business...and wouldn't it be cool if he could go to 'Culinary College'...? He's an excellent cook, and what better way to 'go to college' than 'on the job training'...that's what I thought...but that was dumb.

My husband Allen, did pretty good while Will flew in and out of the business a few hours here and there before disappearing into the woodwork...as long as our adopted kid, "Valerie" was around to teach him and train him in the not so fine art of chopping, and prepping, and keeping the homefires burning just in case some sucker might stumble into the place during it's open hours....11 a.m. to 2 p.m..

When Valerie left here to go travel around the Country (for a month or more), leaving behind her 15 year old ...only child ...teenage daughter under our wing and roof...Allen suddenly became stressed. Nevermind that when a customer actually did walk in the door, both Allen and Will ran to the back of the kitchen and called Wendy in a panic to get down there NOW! Wendy called me and we both went flying down to the restaurant...only to find a sole customer sitting quietly slurping up one of Papa's Big Belly Burritos.

"Where's the fire"...we thought, as we ran down there thinking they were swamped.

"Well, we didn't know what to do with him." they both chimed noting they had never waited a table in their lives. O VEY we thought...what lops! Well, we made it through that crisis, but there's been plenty of others every since. Like every piece of equipment we bought has decided to break down in the past month...from the $600. Slicer...that coughed up a few 'whrrr whrrs' before it finally clunked out...to the big Reefer that flipped out over a weekend and ruined a whole inventory of food stored in it...as it's temperature soared to 80 degrees...OH YUK!

Of course, all of this results in the silent 'cha ching' that is going out there...instead of in here...and that's the part I have to deal with everyday. Frankly, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being the only thing keeping everyone in this household between the "Life of Riley" and "the Poor Farm" ...day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year. The year's start piling up and pretty soon it's 20 yearls later and I said to myself...

"Self...this is such bullshit!"...and I had to agree. So that is where the negative came in...and I caught myself looking at Allen with slitted eyes while holding myself back from picking up a two by four and beating the ever living shit out of him when he said, "You know Linda, I think the restaurant is going to be too much stress for me."

In that instant, I could feel the veins on my neck start popping out, and I just know my nostrils must have flared even if flames didn't come out of them because I was thinking hard on what he said...real hard.

"STRESS!" I thought, "What the Freak... are we gonna do when the restaurant is open longer than from 11 am to 2 pm. ....and has to serve more than two or three customers in a whole freaking day for God's sake!" I realize that my husband's refusal to open an envelope or ever listen to a message on the voice recorder, much less have to figure out how toliet paper and everything else gets into our home...is probably a good indication he is SPOILED ROTTEN...but how do you UNCREATE Frankenstein once you've put the juice to him for the past 18 years?!

My God Linda...I realized....are you retarded or what? I visualized myself looking like 95 year old aunt Faye and fading in and out of lucidness like a cell phone in the mountains...like aunt Faye and having to sit across the desk from some poor hapless victims while I shake and fumble to fill out a Loan Application for them, or maybe hit all the wrong buttons to take a look at the MLS website cause I have to take my wheelchair out to show homes.

Now, wouldn't those thoughts make anyone want to commit "hairy scary" right then and there?

In the meantime...after paying sky high bill stacks at home, and then going down to the restaurant to pay some more for good measure...I come walking in with the most recent "store order' from my family here...only to hear some old lady watching Dr. Phil blast his way into the serenity of our home...squawk...

"What's for Dinner...I'm Hungry!"

"A knuckle sandwich" I thought, but I didn't let it slip out of my lips. As I struggle to put down my purse and a couple of fat files of "Gimmeee Gimmeee I need, I need" bills...the 24 rolls of Charmin 'fat'...(three women...one in diapers)...that won't last a week...and stacks of mail from three locations...all offering me something I have just GOT to have....I cave into the couch to pay attention to the 95 year old who's biggest problem is whether I feel like rolling her hair or not.

Sitting there, I notice some 'shit stringer' has been to my home and has done a pretty damned good job of letting me feel a little like one of the three bears upon arriving home. There's some shoes near the couch, a couple of half filled glasses and cups on the side tables, and a full banana peel that could not find it's way two feet from the counter to the garbage can, and then I notice the can is over flowing, but aren't teenagers gifted when it comes to balancing some final piece of lettuce on the very top...in order to avoid actually having to take it out?

Loud snores are escaping from the back bedroom as Allen 'naps', from his exhausting day both cooking for...and serving those two customers...but the phone rings and my oldest daughter is talking a mile a minute LOUDLY as my eyes are still discovering even more teenager belongings strung from one end of the house to another....

...she is leaving for a conference in Bend...(Will is in California by now doing some 'construction' so we have no clue where he is at on the 'restaurant business' right now) in the morning, and I have already agreed to babysit for Emily...my three year old grand daughter...and keep a lid on the older teenagers....Jordan and Jon....for the next few days...so what is going on?

Oh Joy! Wendy just discovers that Jordan hasn't done one single Algebra assignment the whole quarter and just scored 18% on a test that the rest of the class averaged 80% on. Jordan is a "Cheerleader" now, which means about $800. has been invested into all the cute little outfits they get to wear as they prance around going rah rah at games and rallys...and if she doesn't have a 2.65 GPA...her cute little ass is OUT of Cheerleading.

Lying to us about doing her homework is nothing new for sweet little Jordan...she has become quite adept at it since 7th Grade when our first experience with "shock and awe" began...but by most kids Sophomore year they aren't 'mouth breathers' anymore. So, when I got Jordan under my thumb...she had to sit down for as long as it took to do her damned homework...all of it...every single assigment she missed....and for an instant...I wanted to take the fly swatter and beat the living shit out of her...but I didn't.

I did get the 'princess' off the couch to pick up her 'droppings' all over the house, and managed to give my college going Grandson an evil eye since he was getting a little resentful that he had to empty the dishwasher and feed the dogs and goats...while the "Princess Guest" lounged around trying to think of new and better ways to get herself in the company of her friends instead of anywhere near this family.

Suddenly, they ALL LOOKED RATHER EVIL TO ME and I wondered...."What kind of dumb bitch gets herself hooked up with this agenda?" Believe it or not...just the day before that...I was 'thanking God' for what a GREAT LIFE I have...on my beautiful ranch...in my beautiful home...with my loving husband and my wonderful Grandchildren...all my in laws and outlaws...and my awesome friends...

Speaking of which, there were none showing up to buy a damned Burrito at the Restaurant if you can believe that CROCK. I MEAN...how many freaking times has their big feet been sitting under the hospatality of our home and hearts...and then they can't BUST OUT $5.00 to even encourage us a tad to keep on smiling through the rain?

...but that isn't all there is to this saga into insanity....I haven't been able to keep up the communication link with our two business entities in California due to the need to pick up and deliver teenagers from home to school (Allen does this for Jessica..the Princess) and school to home...and home to jobs or Cheerleading practice or dance lessons or play rehearsals or to and from work at Fred Meyers for Jon...and getting college books for Tom...along with all the shopping for the restaurant and home etc. so THEY MUST BE GOING BROKE OVERNIGHT my mind tells me...so I start to WORRY about my youngest daughter and her husband and my oldest son too...all residing in California.

NOT HEARING FROM THEM must mean that things are NOT GOING WELL...so I better see if there is a deal or two on the board before I write another 'check' to anyone. It all turned out to be OK once I actually talked with them...or at least it will be next month...but it took a week of sleepless nights and mornings before I got around to asking about the 'pipelines'.

When you are in a funk...even the bawling babies in the background of your conversation with your daughter or son in law is irritating...you want to yell out, "Can't you shut that kid up?" but you don't because she probably already did...and it's the other one taking his turn.

There's also the soothing chores to do for the Princess now and then...as she has no bedroom to call her own, and she misses her 'old life' where she does what she wants when she wants to and doesn't have to give any when, where, what, who and how to anyone...and she misses her mom.

I can't blame the kid for having a hard time learning to share and care about a family when her life has essentially been 'Mom and Me' for the past 15 years...and by the way, we just had a grand "Sweet 16 Birthday Party' bash at Hogfathers with about 40 kids and a DJ and all that jazz...but hey MON...IT AIN'T MY JOB.... ya know what I mean, jellybeans? So why in the hell am I pounding pavement for five or six hours for it? I dunno...I guess I like the kid or something.

In sheer desperation, I broke down and bought my Grandson Jon a car. OK...it's not quiet a car in the general sense of the word...it's a "RollsCanardly"...which means that it rolls down a hill and can hardly get up the next one...but for $700. it runs and I thought it would help him from having to call for a ride to Work right at the wrong time on a daily basis...and maybe he could serve some function as 'taxi' driver as well.

SILLY ME! He promptly gets a ticket because Jordan FORGOT to put on her seatbelt...so that's a $97.00 fine right out of the gate...but even better...we find that he has been ABSENT OR TARDY TO SCHOOL EVERY SINGLE DAY HE'S HAD THE DAMNED CAR! Now, he used to walk two or three miles to school in the morning (no self respecting Senior can take the bus can they?) and he made it on time. He only has THREE classes...so you would think....

...and like me, you would be thinking wrong. So, for the next week...he will walk to school again, and only use the car to drive himself to work...so much for the "Hey can you take Jessie to dance class for me?" and all those stupid illusions I was suffering as I wrote out that check. O VEY!

I thank God I have Wendy around, when she isn't working herself into a dither on her real job...or getting me into even more crisis (we are catering a luncheon for 100 people over at some high toned beach club on October 27th for the first time in our lives that Wendy set up for us....and I am hoping we can break even on that one...since the Birthday Bash was upside down to say the least).

Then, the escrow on our vacant Skyline house fell out AGAIN...so it needs to be sold, rented or otherwise disposed of and I can't quite make up my mind which way to go on it since winter is going to set in and people tend to go into hybernation here.

Besides, The yards on the place look like crap since they have suffered long and deliberate neglect...but I sure as hell can't afford to HIRE someone to get them whipped back into shape...and I don't know if it is worth it or not to have my LOVELY GRANDCHILDREN participate in a Home and Garden clean up party or not.

When they get those long, "I'm bored" looks on their faces, I just wanna slap em up side the head lately. Four weeks ago I wouldn't even have noticed it in the little darlings.

...and then there is the craziest 'insult to injury' and that has to do with our paid for and scheduled TRIP to VEGAS in November. I don't know what in the hell I was thinking...as to even plan such a trip around all the chaos going on here is just insane...but I booked it when I had that Pollyanna vision...so that Allen could see a concert of the Rolling Stones up close and personal at that time. I never was a big stones fan as there is nothing about Mick Jagger or the rest of the Group that ever looked "cute' to me...but Allen thinks they are great...so it was for him.

It looks like we are going to be STUCK IN VEGAS WITHOUT MONEY TO PLAY WITH for almost a week...now isn't that just ducky? Just the thought of that almost makes we want to ship Allen off alone...but hanging here with Aunt Faye, the kids and the Restaurant alone also seems like more than I can bear right now too.

Hope her sister is 'game' for a visit one more time.

Even in my dreams I've been viewing things from the DOWN POSITION...I dreamed I had two huge Ball and Chains on my ankles, and my job was to push ROCKS UPHILL...and just before I reached the summit and just before I was to see easy street on the other side...I had to sit down on the job. I had some terminal illness that meant I would never reach the summit, and they would have to load the Balls and Chains right in my damned casket with me so I couldn't even be FREE in heaven. Now how's that for a suck butt thought or two. Pissed me off for at least a week whenever I thought of it.

Sometimes the shit gets too thick for even me (blissfully oblivious...remember) to bear and like it or not, I finally had to drag the whole pot of shit over to God and drop it off there for a spell. I can't stand to polish my own 'pity pot' too long cause I have about zero tolerence for others when they do it...and it ain't like it's something you can't notice about yourself very easily.

Honestly, I just wanted to get in my gas guzzler and drive into the sunset...feign amnesia and just start over trying to avoid as many attachments as possible...but then, I would be lonely...and that would mean I would have to drag in some bird with a broken wing to 'help' somehow...so I had to stay put...and busy...and perturbed...and now I am waiting for the 'miracle'...

...the one that removes my optical rectumitus (shitty outlook on life) and gives me back my Blissful 'oblivious' gift I will cherish with true grit. It's lots better to look at the glass half full...so until you hear that I am 'put up at some hospital'...staring into space...seeing nothing but doom and gloom in front of me...I'm going to try to get my life back a little.

The one where I believe everyone is nice...and that they actually aren't retarded and shallow and as selfish and self centered as it comes. I'll let you know when I am zapped back into shape 'for real'...cause if I said I was 'over it' today...I'd be a bald faced liar.

Now, aren't you glad you got to read me today? I thought not. Over and out!