November 07, 2011

The Good, The Bad and the NaNoWriMo

I attended parent/teacher conferences for The Boy. He's doing well - as well as he was doing before his descent into crazyland. I'm sure that's a technical term for what he went through - but don't quote me on it.


He wrote an awesome Poe-esque short story for an assignment, and did some impressive artwork.


If he would just do his homework (that I never knew he had), his report card would probably be sporting mostly As.


The plan is to add my name to the weekly homework email - so I won't be living in ignorance anymore (at least not in regards to homework).


We went to court on Friday morning. The charges that were filed against The Boy were all dropped, without prejudice (meaning that the court will not be monitoring his behavior).


It was decided BEFORE court; the papers had been signed on Wednesday.


Pity, that - had the juvenile officer seen what took place this weekend, he'd probably want to re-think that decision. 


You'd think that we'd come home from hearing the good news and we'd all be happy.


But, no!


The Boy went batshit crazy again, just a few hours after we returned home. I really thought I'd have to call the police again (those lovely gents who think it's cool to mace the mentally ill, autistic kid). He grabbed the phone and dialed 9-1- a couple of times before hanging up. 


He ran outside, threatening to run away. Shoeless, once again.


He ran to Marcia's house (our neighbor), and told her he's just going to have to stay with her.


We're so mean to him, don'tyouknow.


It took about six hours for him to calm down to an acceptable level. Things were broken, things were thrown - at me.


At one point, he hugged me so hard that he hurt my decrepit neck.


It still hurts.


Then on Saturday, I took him to his therapy appointment, and got to spill the beans.


The therapist told him that he will never be disrespectful to me again - in her office.


After we got home, he did the spazzed out routine again, though it didn't last as long.


Of course, in his mind, it's all my fault.


The one person who hasn't deserted him in his hour of need.


Go figure.


I discovered that batshit crazy is not conducive to my NaNoWriMo productivity.


Neither is The Mister's helpful reminders that "I really should be writing my book".


Consequently, I'm woefully behind in word count.


And today's treat is a face-to-face meeting with the tax office boss. I already told them that I won't work there this year unless I get a raise.


She wants to talk.


I'm not looking forward to this little gathering. I know she'll more than likely play the "poor me, I don't make any money" card.


I'm sure it's difficult to get by on the seven figures she brings in from Jan. thru Apr. - poor thing.


It's just hard for me to muster up understanding when she's paying me twenty cents over minimum wage for every hour I work.


I did all the free tax returns, all the $29 tax returns, and I'm the office crazy person magnet. I get the stinkin' drunks and the ones who just stink.


I'm hoping she continues her cheapass frugal ways, and can't meet my exorbitant reasonable request - because the thought of going back to that drafty, spider-friendly office makes me feel like I lost in the negotiations.

7 comments:

  1. Virtual hugs coming your way! I am sorry you are having such a bad fall. Maybe you should just write a novel about The Boy? Get into his head. Sounds like you have enough material!

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  2. I just love the way you write with such humor about all that goes on in the Cleaver Compound.... I'd never be able to A) Handle the drama, or B) Write about it! I hope you know I think you're pretty awesome!

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  3. Oh how the boy reminds me of my own son. Who we are still having issues with only now he no longer lives here. Granted he is 19 and of course thinks he has all the answers. I hope you find a better job then the one and they pay better with a better office..

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  4. You stick up for your rights with that woman. I mean it.

    I'm sorry that The Boy had another freak out. ((hugs))

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  5. I wish you peace and calm for the BOY. You have a lot to dealwith. I admire you.

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  6. Oh man … I wish the Boy could find an even keel and stay on it. I'm sure this has got to be hard. And personally, I don't think you HAVE to write your novel just in November … perhaps December will work better for you. Hang in there.

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