“I’d Like To Speak To The Manager”

We’ve all seen the meme right? The lady, with the haircut, who wants to speak to the manager for who knows what? This meme and phrase was the story of my life yesterday.  First, I was at work, and the clients were OFF.THE.CHARTS. crazy. Fortunately for me, management knows our client tendencies and when we say someone’s acting crazy, we are usually believed. I has 3 clients do the “I’d like to speak to the manager” thing-ROCK ON BOOBOO-good luck. After work, I wanted to simplify my life by grabbing Little Caesar’s pizza to save some time and effort for dinner. Walk in, and there is literally “I’d like to speak to the manager haircut lady at the register. COME ONNNNNNN!!!!  So I tell myself in my head to chill out, hopefully she’s not gonna do “the thing”. Yeah right. So the cashier tells her the total, which was 20-something dollars and change. I think it was between $26-$28, don’t remember exactly.  So she’s all WHATTTTTT???? WHYYYYYY????? Cashier begins to tell her “well you ordered a combo meal for $18.99, you added this and this, and added a soda, and of course there’s tax.” She stands there gazing into space like this is some complex mathematical equation. JUST PAYYYYYYYYYYY!!! So finally, and seemingly reluctantly, she pays, with two $20 bills. Cashier gives her the change and she is studying the receipt like it has turn-by-turn directions to the long lost location of the fountain of youth described on it. Lady you’re at Little Caesars. You’re not going to get pizzas and crazy bread and whatever else you ordered, plus a soda, for that price, anywhere else, ever. GTFO of my way already!! I approach the counter and ask the cashier what is ready. “Pepperoni and cheeses are ready” GREAT I’ll take one of each and a 2-liter soda. $14 and 3 minutes later I’m out the door. While I’m walking out, I’d like to talk to the manager lady is talking to a child that’s by her side, that she must be babysitting and she says to the child “I can’t wait to get home and hang out with you, we’re going to have such a fun night!” YEAHHHHH I BET YOU ARE LOADS OF FUN. SO…I bring the pizzas home to my kids so I can then turn around and leave to go visit my husband. I was wearing a pair of LuLaRoe leggings, with a long black top that went almost down to my knees. NOW…technically speaking, leggings are on the list of prohibited clothing for visitors-however-this location is notorious for not caring what people wear to visit. It’s common knowledge among prison wives and families of individuals in this facility, and you can see it in action when  visits begin and people are allowed to enter wearing (or not wearing) pretty much anything. Plus like I said, my top went almost all the way to my knees, therefore its completely covering my ass-not like that matters because “covered ass” is not a requirement to enter visits.  I go up to the window to submit my visiting pass and ID. This rotten ass bitch is gonna tell me “I can’t let you in with those leggings on, but if you go change and come back I can let you in” FOR FUCKING REAL? Because I spotted 2 other women waiting with leggings on, one with a one-piece, form fitting, short dress, and one with jeans just as tight as leggings-that were probably jeggings anyways. Now any seasoned prison wife knows that arguing with these barbarians is not going to get you anywhere. So I suck my thoughts deep into my throat and walk outside, go home, which thankfully is only a 5 minute drive, and throw on some jeans which honestly were tighter than the leggings-but what-everrrrrr. I walk back into the facility and this bitch says “well, you’re late for visiting time I don’t know if I can let you in. YOU FILTHY BITCH. I said “you.told.me.to.change.and.come.back.” She plays fucking dumb and then eventually lets me in, AFTER calling a dog out to check me out just to be a stankin ass bitch. Seriously tho, it was all showboating. Then she proceeds to remind me that I cannot see my husband after this visit for at least 2 weeks because the “courtesy pass” I’ve been using expired at this visit and my official visiting application has not yet been approved and documented. I already knew this, and the fact that she let me know that she also knew this…I mean, to say I was livid was an understatement. You CLEARLY know that this is our last visit for  a while, and you’ve given me as much of a hard time as you POSSIBLY can. LIKE WHY???? I would have said I’d like to talk to the manager, but visiting my husband was far more important than stooping to the level of juvenile vindiction of that stupid little bitch, and I had no more time to waste. Ya know the type that is so miserable with their own life that they feel compelled to interfere with other people’s happiness and peace? “Live and let live”…if only it were that easy.

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Section 8, The Enabler

BEFORE I BEGIN-I am aware someone may get offended, or think I am judgmental, or this, or that, welp…this is my party and I’ll cry if I want to. I am at a stage in my life where I am looking to move, looking for a place to rent. I don’t have the credit score or savings to buy. I’m not look for advice on either of those things FYI-I just come here to vent. NOW…I have lived, rented, utilizing housing assistance. I DO NOT HAVE ISSUE WITH PEOPLE WHO NEED IT-NEED IT-RECEIVING HOUSING ASSISTANCE-or any assistance they need for that matter. I’ve had housing assistance, welfare, WIC, food stamps, state insurance, utility payment program…ALL THAT. I don’t think I am better than anyone else. (Well, with a few exceptions)…Been there, done that, moved on. AHA!!!! That’s it right there. I. MOVED. ON. Okay, I think I’ve given enough disclaimers-I’m gonna just get right into it. So like I said I have been looking at apartments. Like it happened when I moved where I am at now, I hard a REALLY hard time. I was noticing that for what I needed for size, the rent being asked was RIDICULOUS-especially for the area I’m in. Which is not a great area. Want something better? Way more money. Also, I’m looking around and calling landlords inquiring as to rent amount, and you know what a lot of them are asking? “Are you Section 8?” I mean, of course they’re going to ask that. But it’s HOW they ask. It’s a pretty much 50/50 split of “I don’t really want Section 8 because the inspections and rules are a lot to handle.” Or…”I really only rent to Section 8 because it’s guaranteed rent.” SO-the first landlord who doesn’t want Section 8 tenants seems like it’ll work, BUT then you look at the rent amount they’re asking for and it’s HIGH AF. WHY???? YA KNOW WHY???? Because landlords are asking for the max rent amount SECTION 8 WILL PAY for a unit that size, even though they won’t rent to a Section 8 tenant, simply because THEY CAN. And so many landlords have done this for a while now, SO there you have it, new, extra high, market rent prices. THANKS A LOT SECTION 8. Now me, the hardworking mother WITHOUT Section 8 cant afford anything better than a slumlord. Now both the first landlord and second landlord, technically speaking cannot refuse or choose like that, I’m certain it’s some housing law stuff-but that’s not my point. None of them are going to put their preferences in writing so they can get told on. This shit is why hardworking families can’t ever get ahead, can’t afford to live. While Section 8 recipients (not all, but mannyyyy) are living it up. How?? I will tell you. They get Section 8. They retain Section 8 by not getting a job, or by getting a minimally paying job. They keep having kids so they stay eligible. They have no motivation to do better in life, be it via education or a career, either/or.  I HAVE HEARD PEOPLE SAY “I can’t work that many hours or I can’t apply for that job, because I WILL LOSE MY SECTION 8.” Seriously Society? We live in an age where it is preferable to do the bare minimum, or nothing, because “we’ll be taken care of.” Why isn’t there a cap? An end date? SOMETHING?!?!?! Like I said I’ve gotten ALL that help in the past-but I was one of those rare people that wanted better for myself and children and saw assistance as a stepping stone and not a place to unpack and stay. I went to school, attained degrees, got jobs, eventually made a career…paid my student loans, and my quality of life has gotten…ehhh….better, but slowly. I know people that have had Section 8 for 15 years or more and have NEVER worked or even tried to. They get to have long term boyfriends (never husbands tho, they’s lose their Section 8) that they keep having kids with so they can get MORE benefits, and also get to be stay-at-home moms without the financial loss because THEY’RE ALL SET! They get all the assistance they need! While the “man” of the family brings home full time pay that they can live it up with since he’s not named on the Section 8 voucher-allowing them $50 rent for a single family home with a fenced in yard. YOU DO NOT DESERVE ALL THAT, I DO!!!!! I BUST MY ASS TO JUST PAY RENT!!!! WE WANNA DO FUN THINGS TOO!!!! What I cannot for the life of me understand, is why the welfare program has a time limit… you want unemployment? You need to do job searches and have a case worker. Section 8 tho??? HEYYYYYYY you can have that shit FOREVER as long as you continue to qualify!!!! Yeah, that’s gonna have to change. Make people do job searches, make them demonstrate how they are trying to do MORE, do BETTER. Mandate a structured program to ensure people aren’t abusing the voucher-there has GOT to be some accountability. I guarantee that if some sort of changes were implemented to get people off of Section 8 “IF THEY ARE CAPABLE OF WORK AND NOT DISABLED OR ALL THAT”-a lot would change for the better. More people working=less spent on welfare. More people working=less food stamps paid. More people working=less crime???? More people working=better values??? More people working=decline in substance abuse??? THE LIST GOES ON, DO YOU SEE WHERE I AM GOING???? So…no I am not done venting but I need to make dinner. Someone should put this into action though. Sincerely, a full time job having, plus part time job having, mother of 3 that’s tired of living close to vagrancy while lazy MFs live it TF up.

“I’d like mental breakdown strength”

SO today was grand. NOT. It was one of those days where I wake up okay, just to start going about my day and experience several meltdowns. I woke up to a whining dog that wanted to out for a walk. Not a big deal, but enough to send me over the edge. Simply because I was reminded that I am responsible for so many more things in my life than just myself. Who cries while walking the dog?!?!?! I did. Just thinking about the day ahead, which was nothing serious-just the thoughts of having to get groceries, do laundry, clean the house, run other errands, OH and also try to work a few hours to make some money. Those thoughts are all it took to send me into a downward spiral. I don’t want to drink my woes away, don’t use any other drugs, but I NEED SOME KIND OF SOMETHING to take me down a few levels when I can’t seem to pull myself together. Went to WalMart-nice, look at all the families here together. Missing my husband comes in waves. I tend to lose it when I’m doing things, or thinking of things, we usually do together. I spent many years as a single mom and I CRUSHED that role. I had alll my shit together, I wasn’t dependent on anyone or any assistance. Everything that needed to get done, got done, without a second thought about the fact that I was doing it alone. Where did that strength go??? “I did it before, I can do it again” kept playing through my mind. BUT I DON’T WANT TO DO IT ALONE. He calls, a call which of course I have to pay for, and I had a complete screaming and venting fit, followed by “sorry, I had to vent”. LIKE-SERIOUSLY-I’m JUST running errands, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!!! Welp, that wasn’t happening. On top of it my two favorite Netflix series’ I have been binging on have both ended. I FEEL LOST. I was driving down the street and saw a “smoke shop” type of place that advertised having CBD oil. I’ve seen social media posts of people praising the stuff for pretty much any ailment or complaint they have. So I went in, not knowing what I should ask for-just told the guy that I want to try it. He asks “what strain and strength do you want?” My response…”I need mental breakdown strength”. Without even batting an eye or making a face he hands me a little brown bottle and tells me to start by taking half a dropperful at a time. I get home and take an entire dropperful. It’s okay I guess. It didn’t sedate me or anything, but I did feel like I had gotten knocked down a few notches from the super high mental space I was in. At least now it’s the time of evening where I cook dinner, I’M DOING LAUNDRY (yay me), and it will be bedtime in a couple hours. Enter the freakout of tomorrow being Monday and REAL LIFE starting over again. I guess I will deal with that in the morning, with CBD oil readily available and in reach at all times. Adulting is freaking hard and sometimes sucks. I need a guide, or something. THEN it came to me: think of how you did it before and just do it again. OH…that reminds me, i bought a new shirt over the weekend at the thrift store for $2.99. It says on it “NEVER NEVER NEVER GIVE UP”. Maybe if I wear it every day it will help?? Let’s see.

The Journey Begins

Thanks for joining me! I don’t even know where to begin, I just know that I want to. Need to. I need an outlet but I don’t want to talk anyone to death. And I’m REALLLYYYYY trying this new idea of non-toxic ways to deal with my ridiculous life. I’ve considered (and many people have suggested) writing a book about my life and experiences, but that seems way too difficult and organized. Blogging I can kinda just say what’s on my mind at any given time rather than end the story. What if I wrote a book and forgot something? Anyways, I thought about where to start…birth? High school years? Motherhood? UGH I for once have FULL CONTROL to do something the way I want to do it and I can’t figure out how!! HEY NOW, don’t I, haven’t I, had full control of my life and decisions and experiences thus far? NOPE. Why not? Well, where to begin…I guess with today. Today I decided to sit down and take a few minutes to just start this, because I firmly believe someone somewhere will read, and relate, or at least find it interesting, and at the same time I’ll have an outlet that maybe will change things for me. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Welp, actually many of my ventures were gain-less. Why would someone want to read my blogs? Well if you like stories about people’s weird ass childhoods, homelessness, dives off the deep end, substances abuse issues, domestic violence, career paths, relationship drama, ALL that good stuff, you’ll love what I provide. And I promise you some of it will truly sound like fiction, although I also promise you it’s not. Oh how many times I have said “you can’t make this shit up”…so I will truly “begin” later I guess??? In the meantime, I am off to try to reconnect with my religion at services, do laundry and some cleaning up all in the process of choking back tears all day because I am trying to hide the pain of being a newlywed whose husband went to jail the day before our 2 month anniversary. That’s nothing, wait til you hear the rest of my story.

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

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