DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID


PROFILE GUESTBOOK OLD OLDER OLDEST
My sponsee has gone missing...

These dramatic drunks. Oy Vay!

I would call her, but she keeps having her phone number changed, and I don't have a current number. Her friends here at work were asking me if I had it. They can't find her either.

Just when I was about to give her an ass kicking assignment about being at least "cash register" honest in early sobriety. A gal like her, who has made a lifestyle out of lying and using people - is going to have a tough time with the rigorous honesty part of living sober. Hell - I have lots of trouble with that... In the beginning though, one can take baby steps. Catch oneself in a lie - or take that extra 5 seconds to decide to tell the truth instead of that ever present lie. It takes work. It isn't easy...

Now she's missing. Drama Queen!!!!!

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Speaking of drama queens, the kidlet and I had an unpleasant encounter last evening. Poor thing. She had a situation come up with a girl at school who is just plain mean. She called my daughter a stupid bitch... Daughter had no good come-back, and she was hurt and embarrassed. Then she spent the evening with her dad, at Disneyland, and he was on a roll. Sometimes he starts talking - and for 30 or 40 minutes (NOT an exaggeration) he will go on and on and on and on and on and on - about one subject or another. This is nearly impossible to deal with and not kill yourself. She finally had to ditch him at D-land, and go off on her own for some peace of mind. She got home and was pretty much on her last nerve.

Unfortunately, she waited until 10:30 to try and discuss any of this. By that time, she was a wreck, from thinking about it all night - and I was exhausted, cranky and in need of serious sleep. Needless to say, I was less than sympathetic when she told me she needed to see a therapist and get put on medication. I asked her if she could please see her way clear to talk about it today - at an earlier time... She went to bed crushed - I went in the kitchen and slammed doors and crashed dishes until I felt better.

I believe in therapy. I've been off and on for most of my adult life. The kidlet has been going off and on since kindergarten. However, the last couple of times she had made me go through the hassle of dealing with the ex-husband's insurance company - finding a therapist who takes the insurance - see's patients in the evenings - finding out how many sessions we can have - and dragging the kid down there - for a couple of sessions before she confesses the reason she wants to be seen has absolutely no merit therapy-wise - It's aggravating.

That's why I suggested she speak to the counselor at school. Somebody to talk to - very little hassle. Then, the stupid git tells the kidlet she needs to be put on medication.... Now, I have to deal with this. Grrrrrrrr.

"Life Not Worth Living If You Not Take Risk" Brian, QAF



February 07, 2002

Buh Bye!
October 05, 2008

Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
September 01, 2008

One Last Bitchfest for the Road
August 24, 2008

Get the Popcorn Ready
July 17, 2008

I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
June 20, 2008



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