If the cameras of my “imaginary” reality show could have been at the office today it would have been one hell of a episode. Very little work related activities occurred after 11:00 am today. It is really starting to piss me off that no one, absolutely no one, respects my time, my job or anything else. I am trying to stay focused on the positive side of life, but I am currently getting on my own nerves.
I was in the office solo today and attempting to answer every phone call that came in. That was in between returning calls from yesterday and running what felt like a daycare center (kids are out of school). After finishing up a rather productive sales call I heard a knock at the door. Before I could get the door opened, my dad’s alcoholic buddy of 20 years is trying to just head on in. Blocking the doorway the best I could, and all the damn dogs flying in, he managed to only make it to the back porch before he started with the 20 questions on why I am not allowing my dad to drive anymore. Me, Me, I am not the one who canceled his driving license for medical reasons. My dad had a severe stroke about 5 years ago and even after physical therapy his motor skills, not to mention his mental, are not like they were. Keep in mind that he is 78 years old, had a stroke and has wrecked the lawn mower on numerous occasions. All of this and I wonder why the doctor’s felt the need to keep him off the highway if possible.
I stood in the doorway for at least an hour attempting to explain myself. The drunk friend then revealed that it was actually another neighbor who sent him to visit me. The other neighbor, who the drunk is kin to, felt that I was a horrible person and apparently needed the advisement of his drunk cousin.
Damn you all. Why am I answering to anyone who is not in the family about my dad’s medical condition. Why do the fucking neighbors in this jacked up rural community see that it is any of their business. I am not even close to an alcoholic, I drink maybe one glass of wine a year. I do not take drugs of any kind, including prescription drugs. I have 2 business’ and work my ass off. I have 3 children to take care of and let’s not forget the husband that I have to do everything for except breathe. My dad is not in a rest home and we pay his mortgage every month. He is very well taken care of. He is very fortunate to be alive…period.
I have had enough of it. I have had more than enough of it. If one more person tells me that I need to put myself in my dad’s shoes. Well, I have and I still do. Every damn day I am alive and breathing.
Enough said for now. I now have to catch up my paperwork that ceased being processed when the drunk come to the door.
