Friday, October 23, 2015

Under 30 days and counting...

So the clock is ticking down and my vacation is approaching.  And I am barely hanging in there. Lots of work crises, and other things happening.  I had a sick kitty, (my youngest- but I think she is okay now, I am just $900 poorer, but she is worth every cent).  

In the midst of all this, my relatively new-to-me luxury car that I have had 2 years and one week decided to take a major poo.  It was still under warranty, but I was not having a good relationship with the dealer, and long story short, this was going to be an uphill battle and a lot of wrangling with the dealer.  I decided to cut my losses, and traded the car on a much newer luxury sedan.  Last time I had downsized a bit, and had sacrificed a few amenities I had in my previous car.  In this car, I get all I gained with my Lexus, and all I had lost from the TL.  I also gained 300HP and a turbo, along with AWD.  The deal was done, and I traded.

Oh dear Maude, Murtle, and Harry the Turtle.  My hoarding mother figured out I had gotten a different car by a couple of things.  
  1. My calls via Bluetooth were much quieter and with less background noise.
  2. My turn signal sounded my different.
This, from the woman who is completely deaf in one ear, and over 60% hearing impaired in the other.  Turns out she had just replaced her hearing aid.  (She blames the cat for losing her previous one in the hoard).

Now she is fixated on wanting to know how much the car is.  None of her freaking business, that is how much.  I can afford it, and that is all she needs to know.  She has made a few comments about my impending Caribbean cruise, and my 'spending'.  Never mind I am working 70-75 hours a week many weeks at my job, and I have a consulting gig as well, basically a second job.  Never mind I have not had a true vacation since April of 2006.  Never mind that I am simply exhausted and need a week to be unplugged from work and from everything.

I just end the call when she starts passively aggressively digging for details, asks for information that is none of her business, and I continue to have her on the low contact plan.  I am a grown-ass woman that is closer to 50 than to 40, and I will take myself on vacation or buy myself a car I need for work as I deem appropriate.  And again, it hits me.

She sees this as opportunity lost, and is operating from worst case scenario.  Nothing is ever safe, enjoyable, worth the investment.  It also resonated when a friend speculated that she looked at my successes and happiness as a direct affront to her, a separation from the script she wants me to live by.

So sorry, I am not here for her to live life vicariously through me and re-script her life.  Tonight she complained when I mentioned that I was starting golf lessons in the spring and field hockey lessons in the summer that she did not know why I "had to try everything..."  I simply responded that I have but one life, and I choose to fill it with friends, fun and experiences.  That life is too short to live on the 'safe side of the street.'  I ended the call, and I felt a huge wave of empathy and sadness for her.  

What a small, frightening and bitter existence she leads.  I choose to NOT engage that life.  

Hoarding.  No one wins.  

Thursday, October 22, 2015

Does air-freshener cover up decomp in an aging Honda station wagon?

I can't even...  This is a blog that should not be written, but it is going to happen anyway.  I did purposefully wait until a little closer to Halloween to share this.

So- my hoarding mother's neighbor (the one that I talk to, and stopped by to visit last month) was on vacation with her boyfriend, and had left her precious little dog with a trusted pet sitter.  Her pup was a teacup poodle, was 13 or 14 years old with a pretty significant heart condition, but seemed to be doing well.  Long, sad story made short... The pet sitter threw the dog a piece of cheese, and the dog either had a heart attack at that instant, or asphyxiated on the cheese.  It was horrible.  The neighbor was on her way back from out of state when she got the call, and she had the sitter drop her dog off on her porch, in a box.  

Now, she was not thinking clearly, as it was 90 degrees or hotter that day.  (They had just had a cold snap when she left the state, and I do not think she realized that there was unseasonably hot and humid weather afoot).  At some point she called my mother to just make sure the dog was on the porch.  My mother drove over to her house, and picked up the dog until the neighbor got home, especially with all the roaming animals and vermin in the neighborhood.  My mother mentioned this in passing, but was more preoccupied with wanting to be macabre, morbid and bash the neighbor, the sitter, etc. and knowing that I would not be party to any of that.  I did not ask details, and changed the subject quickly.  Little did I know...

The next day she calls.  "Does that Febreeze stuff for cars work?"  Um... WHY?  "Why?  Do you not realize what happened here yesterday and I what I did?"  Oh my GOD.  She got the box with the dead dog that had been out in the heat, stowed it in her car, and parked in in her garage to... percolate for several hours in a garage that was hot.  She keeps her car closed up as well.  I was dry retching on the phone.  Decomp.  Her car smells like decomposition.  She has dead dog decomp going on in her car.  She acknowledged that since she has little to no sense of smell, the odor must be bad.  When I started asking questions, she started getting defensive and evasive, and ended that call as soon as she could, after changing the subject to tell me something about her feet that would make the most hardened person vomit.  

Add this to the list of horrendous odors that emanate from her house, her car, her person.

Dead dog.  Decomp.  I will never set a toe in that car again.  EVER.  

Hoarding.  No one wins.  No one.