robin tidwell « Robin Writes

Downsizing. We all talk about it, everyone seems to think it’s a good thing . . . But it’s NOT EASY.

Bookstore surplus aside, I’m cutting back from nine bookshelves to five. Heh. Nine to five. But which books??? Sure, the old textbooks can go—who was I kidding when I kept some of those? And most of the antique books will be sold anyway, some are already on Ebay.

I do have a lot of sentimental things laying around here, too. And those will have to come with us. They may be used, many are being used now, but some, yes, will have to be stored. Sorry, not getting rid of them—the kids may want them someday, or not. Won’t be MY problem, right?

Sadly, it’s my problem right now. There are tons of things in the garage that came from the family farm—some can be used, but some . . . I just don’t know. Might be a while before I can go through it all. Yikes. The kids have things here too, come and get ‘em!

Clothes are easy, even shoes—I’m not a shoe junkie. Oh, I see them and like them, in ads, in the stores, but I rarely buy them. Unless they’re boots. Okay, maybe I have a slight issue . . . But boots are USEFUL!

The kitchen is going to be real problem. Sure, I have things there that I don’t use often, but I DO use them. Sigh. I have a lot of cabinets. A lot. And the china cabinet and antique sideboard? This house won’t have a dining room . . . that means the Mexican pine dining room table and the chairs that Dennis made will have to go too. Unless—hey, wait a minute! Maybe we could enclose the patio for a dining room? Genius!

So, you see, this is a project. Huge. We’re already starting to sell off a few things, piecemeal, but have pretty much decided—gulp—that a garage sale is in order. Oh, dear. Last one was, um, about seven years ago. That’s about how long it takes me to recover from one. And I’ve never made more than a few dollars. Sigh.

Well, here goes: coming May 24, BIG SALE! And I hope you all come—okay, okay, some of you might find the trip a bit of a distance and all . . . Well, wish us luck! Two years’ planning isn’t too much, I’m thinking, although at this point I could be ready a lot sooner. A lot.

I’m skipping the RHP post today and I’m just going to jabber about some other stuff that’s really bugging me. And I don’t really give a flip who gets ticked off.

I’m sick and tired of all the bullshit that flies around and, honestly, a lot of it seems to land on me.

You think I’m whining? Phhhht. Think what you want.

In the last six months or so, I had to deal with a kid being arrested. Yeah, maybe he did it, I don’t know, that’s for the judge to decide. The point is that I, as his mom, still had to be a mom. That means making sure he’s okay, even in jail for six months, and going to visit him almost every week. Pain in the rear, but that’s what moms do, right? Regardless.

All the time worrying about him, about his future, etc. And worrying about the effect on the rest of the family. And worrying about bail and money and EVERYTHING. You can’t imagine, unless you’ve had this happen to you too.

And then our bookstore closed. It was time. And you know what? We tried. We offered value for money to help us keep going—we didn’t beg. We didn’t ask anyone to come work and help out or donate stuff. And we closed. We’re still paying for it, and probably will for a long time to come. So there’s that.

Then yesterday. Some random dude drives off the road, barely clips two trees and lands in my truck. Yep, IN MY TRUCK. Which was parked IN MY DRIVEWAY. He pushed it into the garage, too. They took him away in an ambulance.

I felt sorry for the guy, I walked out there and stayed with him, talked to him, put his hat under his head so he wouldn’t be lying on the pavement and gravel. I was worried about him.

Now, I’m pissed. My truck is out of commission which means we’re down to one vehicle, and it’s about kaput. My kid has to go to school, my husband has to go to work. We’re screwed. Homeowners’ insurance won’t cover it, and uninsured motorist in Missouri is ONLY for medical issues.

I wonder if a nervous breakdown would qualify?

Repairs will be around $500 at least, just for parts. And that’s only my estimate and I have no idea, not really, not until tomorrow. And here’s the kicker: this EFFING IDIOT had no license and no insurance. A recovering alcoholic, he owes the woman with whom he lives $10K. His wife? Oh, they split up a decade ago, but aren’t divorced. And, supposedly, he was on his way to “pick up his disability check.” For the second or third time. The last time, he also “had a heart attack.”

Well, screw you, Mr. Burke. I hate you. I don’t feel the least bit sorry for you. I wish you’d hit one of those big damn trees in my yard, head on.

Too harsh?

Go ahead, judge me. I can take it.

I’m damned sick and tired of all the people who screw off and get by and ask for handouts, while we struggle and play by the rules. Spend a fortune on insurance, which doesn’t even help when you need it. Try to pay our bills and live up to our obligations while others just coast on through, leaving a crap ton of damages in their wake.

EFF OFF, losers.