Well, I went to see my hot dentist yesterday after work. Bad news. I need a root canal on this tooth also. I knew I should've seen the dentist when the filling fell out in March. Crap. Seems like I'll be able to finance some new rims on his car or some nice jewelry for his wife.
I'm going to be paying him a lot of money between me and Jackie. He also gave me a referral to an orthodontist for Jackie. She has crowding in her mouth and in the next year she needs to be seen so we can plan a course of action.
"Will I have to get braces, Mom?" she asked me last night. I said, yes, but that she could pick any color she wanted. Might as well, for as much money as it's going to cost me. What sucks is that I know my ex-husband, her father, will not come out of pocket for any of that expense.
My stomach feels weird. It could be the antibiotics Dr. Ruzika put me on. I have a hard time taking penicillin and vicodin at the same time. It always makes me nauseus initially. I guess I have to ride this one out.
My next appointment is August 26 at 7:00 a.m. First thing I want to do in the morning is get a root canal. Don't you?
You know, as humiliating as it was to ask Mr. Sweatpants if he could lend me the money to pick up my prescriptions, he still felt the need to lecture me. I don't think he understands that I'm trying to pay my car off and that I didn't plan on a dentist visit. If I learned anything from all of this is that when someone asks you for money, in most instances, they don't really want to and they are feeling low. Don't add to their agony by picking on them.
I can't believe Rene' would wisk Amy and Luke off to California last weekend and yet lecture me about $15.61. Oh, and I had no money already. He stopped by last night and gave me $22.00, but not before asking me, "Do you think you'll be able to give this back to me next payday?"
The man makes $70,000 a year. He rents an apartment for $400.00 a month. He has no wife, no kids, and a small car payment. He can take two trips a year to Florida, a trip to California and a trip to Kansas City every month. He can finance his Godson in catholic school, tae kwondo, hockey.
Yet, he's going to give me, a single parent, grief about $15.61. That burns my ass.
I've always been a good friend to him. I listen to him when he speaks and comfort him when he's down. I never forget him on birthdays and at Christmas. Sometimes when we go out to eat, I pay, with a smile on my face. I surprise him with little presents here and there. I'm good to him when he's sick. He can come over my house any way he wants and knows he's always welcome.
And yet, he lectured me. "Missy, you need to plan for this..."
Who feels positive about the world when they are broke? Not me. And I had to swallow my pride so that I could get some antibiotics and painkillers.
And he lectured me. I can't get over that.
That butthole.
1:44 pm - August 05, 2004
Recent entries:
What you missed - January 16, 2012
%%older_entries%%From hell - October 19, 2010
%%older_entries%%a rant from a few weeks ago - August 17, 2010
%%older_entries%%Tired - June 20, 2010
%%older_entries%%A beautiful lie - March 11, 2010
%%older_entries%%
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