I have been waiting for Whiny Wednesday all freaking week… (bear with the long rant cause at the end it is parent related)
Something happened last Friday that pissed me off and I can’t recall what it was because I was then consoled by new earrings in the mail from Etsy when I got home.
But on Friday night I parked my car in an EMPTY spot that had no space saver (there’s a good WBUR article for those who have no clue what that is) cause a few days earlier someone stole my space saver. Whatever dudes. Well apparently where I parked Friday night was invisibly claimed by someone because on Saturday morning I discovered THREE SLASHED TIRES. And AND two giant bags of trash on the roof of my car. MOTHER. FUCKERS. So I call the police, fill out a report, call my insurance, file a claim, and they say they’ll send a tow truck.
And of course I leave a “Dear Asshole” letter in the window.
Well I was supposed to meet with a study group on Saturday morning but then had no way to get there and instead tried to use Google Hangout to listen in on the meeting but it was useless and I am confused and way behind in class now. Gah.
Sunday, got a rental but still no tow truck. But I know my letter in the window was read by the asshole cause the trash bags were gone. So I call the insurance company and they say sometime on Monday and I say I teach all day so can I schedule for a specific time and they say ok and I say after 4pm. Good.
So on Monday I abandon my last class of students, I rush to get the kid from his school and rush home to meet the tow truck and the minute I walk in the door there’s a call from the tow company telling me they can’t make it and need to reschedule. What in the fuck? Ok, Wednesday after 2pm and I remind them I’ve been waiting since Saturday and I left work early for this so don’t screw me over again.
Meanwhile I’m driving a car with Jersey plates and as a girl from the Bronx, this is an abomination.
And the letter is still in the window. I’ve been muttering ASSHOLE all week. If my kid indadvertedly blurts it out in school I will be in such trouble.
Then today I rush home, meet the tow truck, dude’s on time, quick and courteous. But the police officer/crossing guard at the end of the street is not. He tells the tow guy to move cause he’s blocking traffic and school busses. The tow driver tells the officer “If you keep talking to me this will take much longer. Shut up and let me do my job, and it will take 5 minutes.” The officer backs away then looks at me so I say “I’ve been waiting 5 days to get towed so that traffic can suck it up and wait.” Now the car is towed and I am awaiting to hear back after the damage appraisal is done.
After first discovering the slashed tires on Saturday morning and calling the police and insurance company I was overwhelmed and on the verge of tears but I was trying really hard to get it together. Trying and not succeeding. For fuck’s sake, I’m in school part time, I teach full time, I’m trying to make time to nurture a real relationship with my girlfriend AND I have a child. AND trying to find time to care for my aging parents in NYC. I HAVE HAVE NO FUCKING TIME FOR THIS SHIT. Well he saw that I was about to lose my shit and came over to give me a hug. And he said to me “Mommy, today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow and yesterday was yesterday. Every day is different. Tomorrow will be a new day to try again.” Then after a quick peck on my nose, he was off to play his wii.
Now with the rental car we’ve had to park several blocks away in a city lot across the other side of the square we live near. So it means in the morning leaving about 5-10 minutes earlier to walk to the car. And at night when we get home, schlepping a ways to get home when we are already tired from a long day. But he hasn’t complained. Not a groan, not a moan, not a whine. On Monday morning when we did the first schlep to get to the rental car to drive to school I slipped on the ice and fell flat on my back. I was ok, but from then on for every schlep he’d point out the ice and tell me to be careful. He’s been a champ. A rockstar. My hero. And every day I think I can do this today, whatever it is I can do it. Cause there’s a 7 year old sweet faced little boy of my heart who believes that I can. And he believes in tomorrow and getting up in the morning and trying again.
I FUCKING LOVE THIS KID.