Saturday, December 11, 2010

TGIF?

I dunno, around here, Friday is just as crazy as all the other days.  I don't get any great prize for making it to the weekend.  In fact, the weekends are apt to be crazier that the week before, because it's likely that I'll have more people in my house.  I'm really developing a distaste for people in general, especially ones that I have to live with.

Well, that's not entirely true.  I really love my teenagers.  I seem to relate to them better than most people.  Maybe it's because I'm about as frustrated and pissed off as they are.

I'm fairly certain that my husband's brain is literally rotting inside his head.  Seriously, I think his brain is gone.  He's got that "the lights are on, but no body's home" look in his eyes all the time lately.  And the scary thing is, he seems to be completely content with that.   I don't know if it's the methadone, or if  he's combining something else with it, or if it's just the effect of years of addiction catching up with his brain.  Hell, for all I know, he's going senile.  All I know,  is that I can't take many more weeks like this one.

Sunday night, He went to go pick up some money from a job that he did.  So as he's driving down the highway towards home, with $40.00 cash in his pocket, passing dozens of  gas stations, he runs out of gas!    Anyway, I'm at home in bed with the flu, and he calls me and asks if I can bring him a gas can and run him to the gas station.  When I get there to pick him up, I have to wake him up because he's sleeping.  I ask him why he doesn't carry an extra gas can in the car, since he has run the car out of gas 6 times in the past two weeks?   Or better yet - why didn't he just stop at one of the many, fine, reputable, gas stations and put gas in the car?!   He informs me that he does have a gas can in the car, and he just didn't want to walk to the gas station, or stop and put gas in the car, because he was too tired and it's cold outside!!!

Monday morning, on his way home from the methadone clinic, he wrecked the car, because he fell asleep while he was driving down the highway at 60 miles an hour!  When he got home, I had to explain to him what "Liability Only" Insurance meant; and that he wasn't getting any money from the insurance company.

Tuesday night, I sent him to get dog food at the grocery store.  As usual, the dogs informed me when he got home, even though I saw the headlights pull into the driveway.  After waiting over twenty minutes for him to come inside, the dogs were clawing at he front door.  I thought maybe he was on the phone or something, so I finally sent Nick out to get the dog food.  Nick brought in the groceries and Roy followed him, looking kind of dazed and confused.  Apparently, Nick had to knock on the window to get the bags because, Roy had fallen asleep in the driveway.  It was 18 degrees outside.

Wednesday, Nick had court.  Total chaos.

Thursday night, when Roy came home, Jenn, Heather, and I were getting ready to leave for the grocery store.  After telling him where the girls and I were going - three times - I asked him if he wanted me to get anything for him.  He told me what he wanted, and as we were walking out the door, he wanted to know where I was going !  I rolled my eyes and said, "To. The. Store !"
to which he responded, "Okay, I didn't know, you never told me that."
I asked Heather, " How many times we tell him?"
She said, "LIKE, FIVE TIMES !"
When we came home, I started recruiting people to help carry in groceries.  My husband comes down the stairs and says, "Hi!  Where have you been?" 

This evening, I told Roy that I needed to go to the drugstore for a few things, and he offered to drive me.  When we pulled into the parking lot, he looked at me and said, "Why are we here?"
I rolled my eyes and got out of the car as he said, "oh yeah, I remember." (and I'm still not entirely sure that he did.)  As we walked across the parking lot, I asked him, "When you leave the house in the morning . . . how long do you drive around before you figure out where you're going?"
He said, "Oh, I usually figure that out before I leave."
I said, "Uh-huh.  And how many times do you forget where you're going, before you finally get there?"
He chuckled and said, "Only about two or three times."
I don't think that's funny.

Then, just when I thought I was safe for the evening, with my husband in bed, sleeping . . .  I'm sitting here at the computer, and I start to smell something odd.  I start sniffing around and follow the scent up the stairs.  I walk into the bedroom, and the room is hazy grey from smoke.  (again)  My husband is fast asleep, and next to him is a pillow with a lit cigarette laying on top of it.  There's an area the size of a dinner plate that's been charred black, and the smoke that's rising from it smells toxic.  I turn on the lights and tell him to put out his pillow. He sits up,  looks at me, and starts to cough.  I  calmly say, "Roy.  The pillow is on fire."  He finally responds by carrying the smoking pillow to the bath tub and dousing it with water. Without a word, he carries the soaking pillow downstairs, puts it into a trash bag,  tosses it out the front door, and goes back up stairs.
Now.  Here's the crazy part.  When I went upstairs to check on him, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, with the window open, still coughing . . . smoking a cigarette.

What should I do?
Buy more smoke detectors?
Invest my fortune in insurance policies?

I just went up stairs to check on him again.  He's asleep.  He put out his cigarette and I took the rest of the pack.  Unfortunately, he left the window open and  it's about 45 degrees in my bedroom right now.  I'm tired and I'd like to get some sleep before the next near death incident occurs, but I think I'll wait a bit for my room to warm up.

I just can't wait to find out what excitement the weekend brings . . .  (NOT)

1 howled back:

Kim @ This Belle Rocks said...

Oh, dear! Sounds like your home is as chaotic as mine is! I wish I knew what to tell you about Roy. I have issues with my own husband, but not the same kind you have with Roy. I do hope he can shake out of it, though.....it's got to be exhausting worrying about the house burning down or something bad happening to him.

Not sure how I found your site, but I'm pretty sure something was linked up to one of my Google Alert subscriptions. Glad I found you; I think we probably have a good bit in common!