Ma is still in "the place." She's getting better every day, better than she's been in years. She says she knows she needed help and is happy to be there, as long as we don't leave her there indefinitely or let them put her outside picking up trash by the side of the road.
Obviously there are still some issues.
One of her doctors called the other day and we discussed things at length, like the past, how long she's been depressed and her inability to distinguish between imagination and reality. The decision was made to keep her there for the maximum allowed (two weeks) to give them the opportunity to adjust her medications and set up some kind of out patient treatment program for her.
If she can spend the end of her life free of the memories that have haunted her all these years, the chaos of recent weeks will have been worth it.
In other news....
My house looks like it's been broken into and ransacked by angry pygmies. T.A. and I both have been so physically and emotionally drained, we both just kinda sit around and stare into space whenever we get the chance. Hopefully we can muster the energy to get some stuff done in the next day or two.
Aunt Moses calls constantly, wanting to talk smack about Ma so she can run all over town and spread her version of the facts. It's all I can do to keep from ripping into her.
But I reckon she can't help it. Her crazy has been showing a lot lately.
According to Thelma, Aunt Moses flagged the town cop down the other day and told him he needed to go chase down a white truck that she said was driving recklessly. When he didn't move fast enough, she hopped in her truck and took off after him herself, causing the town cop (Thelma's Bubbahubby) to have to choose which of them to pull over first. Unfortunately, Aunt Moses was closest... and he'd actually seen her drive recklessly.
Maybe I should start calling her "Aunt Gomer" instead:
Other stuff that's happened in the past week or so that I've not had time to share:
- I was asked to meet the Big Headed German and the Cutie Patootie at a Big City bar last weekend to hear a killer classic rock band, but had to turn it down because of Ma. It's a good thing though, that much temptation mixed with alcohol when I've not had drink nor nookie in years was probably asking for trouble.
- Pupzilla ate one of my good bras
- I finally got mother effin' tires put on my mother effin' truck. Halloweffinlooyah.
- I damn near got in a fight with a racist/homophobe cashier down at the Dollar General in front of a whole store full of people, including Bubbles. I know the people in question are just ignorant assholes and probably don't even have enough effin' sense to realize how offensive they are, but dang I sure wanted to be the one to give them an education.
- I bought new shoes. I was down to a pair of Sketcher
flip flopssandals to wear to work, with snow weather just around the corner, yet I still felt I had to justify spending $30 bucks on some loafers. If said loafers were anything technology related, I probably wouldn't have given it a second thought. Apparently I still have a few issues.
- I've not had my nails done in so long that I may have to register them as lethal weapons. Thank goodness it's almost payday and I have tires. I didn't want to ask T.A. for a ride to the nail salon when she was already having to run me all over the place.
- Also? The hag hair situation has reached epic proportions. I have to get it cut. Soon. And shave/pluck/wax some things. Or find me a man named Wheat Germ Jim and start my own commune.