I was a lazy shit this week. I didn't run since last week, not once, until today. My sister, who doesn't run, decided to come run along with me. She had her best mile time in, well, since ever! I had a nice shower and said my goodbyes to my mister and his son. Went on my way to a Pampered Chef Party... I promised I would. So off I went to have my shower; so my sister could take me with, to her house and then have her shower too. The plan was we could go to the party from her house after her shower.
I waited at her house while I had a nice long chat with her room mate. This is her first year teaching and she has a bit of a tough student. Andy's teacher is also in her first year, having a tough student being none other than Andy. After my sister had her shower we headed over to the glorified Tupperware Party. By this time (11.30) I was famished. A 5k run, only a smoothy in my belly; I was looking forward to the snacks these parties provide. I was considering what to pile onto my second cake-slice sized plate of food when I heard my phone ring.
Well that's odd, the mister is calling. You see, the mister and I are not ones to chit chat on the phone. So, I figured he was calling for something important. I mean, I know I forgot my wedding ring in the shower but I do that all the time. That could not have been the emergency. So I slipped out of the slidding glass door and answered my phone.
On the other end of the line was an incoherent man that had the voice of my husband, who I thought was playing a prank on me. "Where are you?" "I'm at the Pampered Chef party," I replied. "I need you to take me to the hospital." I was confused and thought I had blinked and warped into the Twilight Zone. I asked the half incoherent voice on the phone, "What?!" "I have a hole in my head. Someone punched me." I immediately ran into the house and told my sister we had to go, "Sylvia we gotta go right now. I have an emergency at home. We gotta go." I don't get easily excited and neither does the mister. So after we flounder our way out of the house and my sister is freaking out, I tell her someone assaulted my husband at home. I wasn't sure if someone broke into our house or if he was walking the dogs or what happened to his son.
I get into my sister's car and put my seat-belt on, sort of dazed, staring off into the distance when it dawns on me that I don't really know what the fuck is going on. I dig my phone out of my pocket and dial the mister. He answers and I start to piece together a half story about being mistaken for another person and being assaulted. My husband was attacked by three men who came to our door accusing him of trying to break into the home of our downstairs neighbor. Supposedly my hubs and another man tried to enter the door of my downstairs neighbor. The guy down stairs didn't call the cops or report the attempted break in. It turns out he accused my husband and some other mystery ghost man of attempting to break in; to his brother! So said brother brought over a posse of men to "take you out" is what he told my husband. My husband who is 5'8" and 130 lbs soaking wet, with rocks in his pockets, remembered getting punched in the face. The End.
When I finally arrived at home, it turns out my step-son, who is 10, had to pick his dad up and guide him into the house. My hubs had a towel to his head and what I assumed to be a bloody nose. He had a gash on his lip, which he refused to get sewn up. And a 4cm+ gash on his forehead that had to be stitched up. We called the police and they came to meet us at the hospital to take statements from us all. It appears as though the injuries my hubs incurred are enough to make this a felony assault case. And yet we still got stuck with the hospital bill.
 |
| The hubs let the hot doctor AND his student both suture his head back together. God he is a good sport even though her stitches were not as good. "She has to learn some how right?" |
I am wound up much tighter than I need to be. I feel an anxiety attack coming on and I don't feel safe in my own home. I am almost scared of retaliation or being attacked while walking my dogs. I want to cry because this is supposed to be the "nice" side of town. I want to cry because the way my husband was attacked could possibly have killed him. The doctor specifically stated that the wounds he received were from kicks and foreign objects. A fist would not have caused the gash he had received. What would I have done? His son lives here. Really, what would I have done? I won't even go into how selfish that line of thinking takes me. What would I have done, not just with mourning, with his son?!?!?!
He didn't want me to get a before and this after doesn't show his other side of the face. It also doesn't show the foot marks or the broken piece of molar he got from irrational humans trying to take justice into their own hands. Justice that was wrongly served. Nothing more than a silly man that went about things the wrong way. Why didn't the neighbor call the cops and report an attempted break in? Why did he have to blindly point fingers? Why did his brother; whom I could formulate my own prejudice about, given the jailhouse tattoos, attack without provocation or proof? Earlier this week I was looking into Earthships and after this weekend I want to remove myself from the toxicity that is the norm even more. Humanity is no longer something I can see in 90 percent of humans I look at. Things like empathy, they no longer exist is seems.
Very few are the people out there that matter. Very few are the people out there that are beyond a vocabulary of one syllable. With every passing day, I have said it before and I will say it again, Idiocracy is really getting closer day by day. Today started off as a normal day. I am thankful that things did not go any worse than they did, but things did not go well today. And to make matters worse I found lice in Andy's hair. If I believed in god I would say some mumbo jumbo about god not giving me more than I can handle. But ya know, I don't buy into that pile of crap. I will be damned if I will let another human put me down. I will be the only one who can or will put me down. Today is a crappy one and tomorrow, well tomorrow is another day. Nothing to fear right?
"I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain." - Frank Herbert
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments are welcome and sometimes moderated.