Wednesday, April 22, 2009

After 3 weeks you'd think I'd have a good title for this but I really don't.

Blessed are those who can laugh at themselves, they will never cease to be amused

Uh yeah. I have been proving that wee quote right all month. I figured it was a case of either laugh, and laugh hard, or cry. In the end, I did both. Very therapeutic.

Some of you may have noticed the 3 week absence. You know those times when life just takes over, like some unstoppable force that is careening through your life, and you feel powerless to stop it? Welcome to my world. It seems, at times, like I have handed over the reins to some drunken lout and allowed him to control the carriage of events. I'm pretty sure I don't like the way he's driving, but I can't figure out how to wrestle them away from him without crashing into a tree. So I've just been sitting back and pretending to enjoy the ride. At some point, I hope, he'll sober up and we'll coast to a gentle halt. The ups and downs of the past 3 weeks have been more than my brain has been able to process at times.

Allow me a moment (or ten) to drag you through the events past and maybe by the end I'll have some control back.

19 days ago - After 3 night shifts in a row, I arrived home on a Saturday morning and dragged my ass upstairs to bed. A few hours later, Hotty Hubby dragged his ass OUT of bed and took the kids out to do whatever it is they do under the guise of allowing the dragon lady (that'd be me for all you slower folks out there) to sleep. They came home for lunch, went back out again, stopped at the grocery store and came home. At some point while I was sleeping, something nasty crawled up my ass and died, and by the time I got up to get ready for work I was in a fightin' mood. Word to the wise? When I'm in a mood like, that ain't nothing you can say that is going to sound right to me. Hotty Hubby quickly discovered that on the night in question and after 15 or 20 minutes of completely irrational, psychotic (and possibly humorous after the fact) screaming at him, I left for work and hour early. As I sped off the down the road, I realised I didn't have my purse. Then I realised that in my tired state I had left my purse in the car that morning. Well, that must mean that hubby moved it right? Well fuck...that just made the creature in my ass even madder. After more insane screaming on my part (did I mention I'm crazy? You saw the title of the blog right?), denial on his part of having moved it, and tearing apart the house, we determined that it had been stolen. But where? Who knows. And how? Well....it was CLEARLY Hotty Hubby's fault. He hadn't looked after the purse that I had left in the car. It couldn't possibly be my fault. I am NOT to blame in this situation. *snort*snicker*

Yeah. So I lived up to my name that night. Very much a mad woman. I think I scared a few grey hairs into his head. Not my proudest moment. Not by a long shot.

My driver's licence, medical cards for the kids & myself, bank cards etc...all gone. My new iPod touch...gone. A necklace for my sister...gone. Pissed off would be an understatement but we'll go with that for now. Alright. I'll go on Monday and get my ID and stuff replaced. No problem. Still pissed about the iPod but I'll live.

Tears. Lots of them.

18 days ago - The morning after all that? I went out to notice my freakin' car had been keyed down the back door. Not. Impressed. Fuckers.

More tears.

17 days ago - On Monday morning, I dropped the kids at school and headed to the licencing office to replace my ID. I got my number and found a seat next to what is possibly the smelliest man on the face of the earth. Not smelly from B.O though. Oh no, I actually think that MAY have been more tolerable. Noooo...this man had obviously discovered a love of marinating in his cologne. I figure he'd likely soaked in it for about 6 hours before leaving the house, he may even have slept in it. So, I sat patiently, breathing through my mouth and waited to be called up by the hot guy at the counter so that I might spin my tale of woe and be drawn into his comforting arms, told how lovely I am and that he would anything he could to help me. *humph* The bitch sitting next to me (size 2, long blonde hair) got called up first. Lucky for me, there was someone else available to see me....a perfectly snooty woman who had clearly forgone the creature-climbed-up-my-ass-and-died method in favour of a long rigid broomstick instead.

Me: Hi there, my purse got stolen by some greedy little bastards out of my unlocked car this weekend and every single thing that was important to me is now gone. Could you please tell me how I might go about replacing my iPod touch? It had my life (in music) on it.

Snooty: No.

Me: Fine, can I get my licence replaced then?

Snooty: Absolutely, I just need to see some ID.

Me: Great! I can do this. Here's my passport and my birth certificate and my marriage certificate.

Snooty: Ooohh. Hmm. Do you have your citizenship card and legal name change papers?

Me: Huh?

Snooty: Well dear. Seems your parents were incredibly inconsiderate boobs who decided that having you born in a foreign country was a cool idea, and it may be, but having a birth certificate from Bermuda doesn't help you much here. AND to top it off, you obviously didn't think things through when you changed your last name from what it was at birth to what your step father's name was when you were 12. Not very forward thinking now is it dear? So, about that citizenship card and those papers?

Me: Ok..well the papers I don't have. Have never needed them. Not even to get my last licence or marriage licence or anything. Not even my passport. And the citizenship card? It was in my wallet.

Snoot: Well that's what I need.

Me: So you're telling me that I can get a passport and travel internationally, but you won't replace the drivers licence that I had til 2 days ago, because my passport isn't considered primary ID and you can't look on your computer and compare me to the godawful picture you took a few years ago?

Snoot: That's right.

Me: That sucks ass.

Snoot: Well. Sorry. Can't help you then. NEXT!!!

*sigh*

More tears.

I trudged off the citizenship office where they told me that absolutely they could replace my card for me. I just needed to pay them $75. Awesome, I can do that! Oh, and wait 9 to 12 months. #$%&^#&^%$# Argh!

More tears.

16 days ago - Just when I thought I couldn't handle any more, the heavens (or perhaps it was the horned folk down in the depths of the underworld) decided that heck, let's give them something else to have fun with. Cue letter from New Zealand Immigration.

"Just when you thought that all you were waiting for was those pretty blue stickers that say you can live in New Zealand, we thought it'd be fun to fuck with your head. So, please have your lovely husband take even more unnecessary blood tests and provide reports from 20 years ago about an anomaly in his physiology that hasn't caused him any issues since he was 12."

Assholes.

Tear ducts on the verge of drying up.


Things happen in threes right? That has got to be my three right? There won't be anymore right? Purse, keyed car and immigration letter. I'm done ..... right?


And then? The sun shone through.


Just one week after my purse was taken, I had crawled into bed one evening for a nap before work (I like to sleep) when Hotty Hubby came barrelling in. He spoke quickly before I had a chance to claw his eyes out for waking me. Our neighbour had found my purse! In our complex!

Seems that on the night in question there had been some teens hanging around. They must have seen my purse on the seat, seen the car unlocked and swiped it. Bastards. They took the iPod (did I mention I miss my music machine?) and the little bit of cash that was in there and dumped the rest.



When I went back to show the Snootster that I had found my licence, she was shockingly more snootified. I was rather taken aback but was too happy to care. All my ID is back. Woo for me!

Now if y'all could please say a prayer (or whatever is you do) that we get approved for those gorgeous residence permits to go in our equally gorgeous passports, that'd be fantabulous!



Now if you'll excuse me, I have some more laughing to do. At myself. Gotta make up for all those tears y'know?

Stumble Upon Toolbar

7 comments:

  1. Whew! And all I did was have kidney stones. I actually think I'd rather have them than get my wallet stolen. You poor thing, what a nightmare!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Glad to have you back. And your use of F*** way outpaced my a**hat post months ago. Way To Go!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Holy crap. What an ordeal.

    Hope things turn around for you.

    ReplyDelete
  4. OMG! I just about had a nervous breakdown reading that!

    I have that name changing problem too. I got my stepfathers name when my Mom remarried. When I got married I got my husbands name. It just makes things so much more difficult!!

    Glad you got your purse! What luck!

    ReplyDelete
  5. OMG!!!!! SOOOOOOooooooooooooooo happy you got most of your stuff back. Big Hugs about the rest : (

    And even further, sending you smooth-sailing vibes.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Did you ever find exactly what crawled up your ass?
    Hopefully not the iPod, that must be sad to lose it...sorry about that!

    ReplyDelete
  7. How did you make it through all that without xanax? I would have been popping them like breath mints. Yeesh! Glad all your ID was returned. Now get thee to New Zealand post-haste. Canada is obviously f*&cking with you.

    ReplyDelete

Show me some love people.....you know you want to!