FYI...CONFRONTATIONS ARE NOT FUN

Today started out great.  Now, you know that whenever I start a post with that sentence, it means that something went wrong.  You would be correct.

Where do I start?  Well, since it was a rainy day, I decided to go to the mall and spend some of the money that I have earned since my first catering job on Super Bowl Sunday.  I know that Philip said that the money "is not much and not worth the effort...blah, blah blah", but I have earned enough of it to buy something small, at least.  So, I did just that.

Lately, going to the mall has been tricky for me.  There are a lot of memories floating around in "Burnett's Gym", and "Spiders Bar and Restaurant", as well as the dreaded lingerie store, "Sensual Things".  I felt a little heavy-hearted when I passed "Sensual Things", since the only reason I ever stepped foot into that place was because of T, and I haven't been in there since (what's the point).  But, I had to pass that store to get to my destination--another clothing store, where I found a great outfit that was on sale.  Had to go down another size, by the way.  Just saying...

So I was feeling pretty good as I walked back from the clothing store, and I was about to pass the aforementioned lingerie store door when I ran into T's "good friend", Trudi (if you don't recognize who this is, click the link).

If you said "Uh oh", then you had the right instinct.  

When she started out the conversation by saying "Oh look who it is...the perfect wife," I realized that it was not going to be a pleasant chat.  I was right.  It went downhill from there.  I guess that she has been waiting for an opportunity to blast me, and it all came out at once.  

Trudi asked if I had even thought once about T's feelings at all before I made the decision to "dump him".  She told me that I ruined her best friend, and "he is not fun anymore" because of my selfishness, but not to worry because she would "make sure" that he got back to normal in spite of me.  Nice little dig, there.

I was shocked and embarrassed, to say the least, to be dressed down in public by Trudi.  I felt as if I were being scolded like a mischievous child.  She did not yell, or make a scene, but there was a certain venom in her voice that informed me that I was deeply despised by this woman.    She really does care a great deal for T, and she blamed me for everything under the sun.  

I wanted to tell her that she had no idea how difficult my decision was, but I don't think that it would have mattered.  She had her mind made up, so there was no reason to  explain myself.   Finally, I no longer wanted to stand there to let her attack me any further, even if she might have been right.  I just walked away, making a quick escape, and she did not follow.  Rather, she yelled, "I hope you're happy".  I almost wanted to laugh when she said that.  I'm surviving, but happy is the last thing that I am.

When I made it back to the van, I allowed myself to sit for a moment and cry.  I realized that when I made the decision to give up T, I thought of everyone but myself--my husband, my extended family, my neighbors, and mostly Derek.  How would they be affected by my decision?  As for my own happiness, it had to go on the back burner.  I thought that I made a noble sacrifice for the tranquility of my son.  I still believe that I made the right decision at that time, and I've had to live with the consequences.  Regrets?  Many.  So many.  

I didn't think about how it would affect anyone else.  I should have.

PURPLE IRISES WITH NO CARD

ALL RIGHT.  NOW I AM NOT IMAGINING THINGS.

This is exactly what I got

Yesterday, I was in a bad mood.  Total Scrooge.  I went Christmas shopping at the mall, fought through the crowds, etc.  Seems like they all had the same idea--to drive me nuts.  Spent an hour on the line, at least.  Kids screaming in front and behind me.  Then I became dizzy because I had forgotten to eat, so a grabbed a Snickers bar and inhaled it in one bite.

Once out of that particular nightmarish store, I grabbed lunch--shoveled down a slice of pizza.  Then hit the highway for home to be back in time for Derek to get off the bus.  Once home, I threw all the packages in my room, swearing to wrap at least two of them before the day was done.  All I wanted to do at that point was to take a nap, but that was just a fantasy.

Then, at around two o'clock,  the doorbell rang.  Since I've been receiving packages lately (almost on a daily basis), I was not surprised.  When I opened the door, a man was there holding a box from SuperFlowers.  It stopped me in my tracks.  Could it be a long overdue peace offering from my husband?

However, when I opened the box,  it was quite clear that the flowers were not from P.  Nestled in the box were 20 blue irises (I say they are purple, but officially, they are called blue irises).  There was no card attached. I was astonished because P never gave me irises, but T did.  

Immediately, my mind drained of all sense.  My stomach did back flips, and my heart quickened.  My legs became weak and could not support the weight of my body.  I had to sit down.  I was sure that I knew who sent me the flowers, but how and from where?  Why?

As for P, I didn't know how to explain it to him, so I put them on my dresser in the master bedroom.  He doesn't go in there, anyway.  I spent the rest of the day and night in a daze--confused, afraid that he might come in and see the flowers, and then ask me where I got them.  I had an excuse all ready, but did not have to use it.  I spent a lot of time in my bedroom last night,  wrapping presents and staring at the flowers.  I wondered what this all meant.

Today, I visited the old age home.  I had not seen Frank in a little while, and maybe I thought that I could get some answers. Unfortunately, Frank was more confused than ever, and I was not sure if he even knew who I was.  It is really terrible what is happening to him.  It breaks my heart.

However, as I was leaving, he had a moment of sudden clarity and asked if I had gotten the flowers that he sent me.  I stopped, turned and asked him point blank if T arranged for the flowers to be sent to me, but that temporary moment of clarity slipped away.  He said "what flowers?", and I even though I repeated the question, I did not receive the answer I was looking to find.  He was lost in his own mind.

But I did get some kind of answer.  I didn't mention anything about flowers before Frank brought it up, so now I know that they were from him.  I don't know if T had anything to do with it, but I have a feeling that he did, because of the irises.  Was it his idea? Why didn't he send a note from Frank? Did he want me to think that they were from him?  Was this a way for him to send me a message of some sort? 

I don't know what to think.

MR. NEANDERTHAL SAVED ME FROM THE WEIRD GUY AT THE GROCERY STORE

My stupid neighbor, Mr. Neanderthal,  seems to be everywhere these days, and he's been screwing up my routine.  I'm all out of sorts, and it's his fault.

I guess that explanations are necessary.  I went to the grocery store, as is my usual Thursday routine.  I had a specific list for the coupons that I had clipped from Sunday's paper.  I was organized, as usual, and started in the produce aisle, when I saw the next door buffoon with one of his plastic lady friends giggling by the cantaloupes.  He had two held up against his chest and...oh, never mind.

She kinda looked like this

I tried to hide behind the apples, but he saw me, and introduced me to his brain-damaged friend  (like I could care less who he has been...with lately).   When she skipped away, I nearly laughed in his face.  What was she?  25?  She sounded like she had the brain of a mosquito.  Is this what single middle aged guys go for these days?  No brain, just body and energetic hormones?  Well, he pretty much said yes to that question.  Dumb ass.

At checkout,  I realized that I had forgotten my coupons at home, and the cloth bags in the van.  Somehow, ice cream and cookies made it into my cart, along with a Lindt bar.  Must have been my dopey neighbor.   He distracted and annoyed me.  When I am distracted and annoyed, I crave junk.  So, I decided to blame it on him.  Good plan.

I managed to make it out into the parking lot with an overflowing cart of plastic grocery bags filled with over priced items.  Doug  the "cart guy" was out there, who usually very nice about helping me load everything in my van.  Very helpful guy, and always seems to be around when I need an extra hand.  Always smiling.  He decided to scold me, pointing out that I should have used cloth bags because it was better for the environment.  Did I also mention that he could be a little annoying with all of his "tips and suggestions"?

I thanked him anyway, and waited for him to leave.  Unfortunately, he did not.  I thought that he would get the hint when I started the van.  He did not.  Instead,  he knocked on the driver's side window to get my attention. When I rolled down the window, he "helpfully" mentioned that he was "looking at my van before" and noticed that my inspection was overdue.  He was practically hanging inside the open window, which made me quite uncomfortable.  I was wondering why he had been checking out my van, and why wouldn't he get out of my face?  Suddenly he was too friendly--more like creepy.

Just when I started to consider running over Doug to make my escape, I heard a deep voice from the side of the van, behind me.  When I turned, I saw that it was the idiot next door and his brainless friend.  Guess I can't call him an idiot, since once he arrived, Doug pulled away from my window like he had gotten an electric shock, hitting his head on the way out.  He quickly said goodbye and got lost, gathering carts as he went.  Mark can be a pretty imposing figure, if you like neanderthals, and he did come in handy--for once. He's good for that, and fixing lawnmowers...I guess.  

I was grateful (and I almost said so) until he opened his mouth and started to talk, calling Doug a weirdo, and then I was compelled to defend Doug.  Why? I don't know.  I guess I just can't stomach agreeing with Mark.  I feel like I'm betraying myself, I guess.

Fast forward to when I pulled into the driveway.  "Barbie" and "Dumb Ass" were washing his truck.  Don't know how they got home that fast.  They must have pulled right up and started to play with the water.  They got water everywhere, and of course, once I got out of my van, I was sprayed.  Probably intentional.  I tried to ignore the two of them, and get into the house as soon as possible.  

Unfortunately, he saw me struggling with the ripping plastic bags and offered to help.  I said no, of course, but he didn't listen to me.  He called over plastic girl and the two of them played "good neighbor" until all the bags were in the kitchen.  Did I mention that they walked through my clean house with their sopping wet clothes?  When he started to go through my bags, noticing the cookies, ice cream and candy, he started to make comments that Derek should not eat all that crap (I never said that it was for Derek, did I?)  Nevertheless, I had just about enough, reached my daily limit of tolerance, and quickly ushered him out.

Guess I should be grateful?  Maybe...naaah!  Still can't stand him.