How to Get Me in a Bad Mood

I’m in kind of a pissy mood this morning. It’s cold outside and I didn’t get a real good night’s sleep, so I am kinda grumpy. Don’t worry, though, I am still wicked cute! THAT never changes.

I didn’t sleep well for two reasons. First, Munchkin slept in my bed last night, and she had a bit of a fever, so she was like sleeping next to a blast furnace. I would take the covers off and get cold, put them on and get hot, back and forth, and back and forth. Incidentally, this is also the reason why I don’t sleep naked anymore and part of the reason that I have a “No boys allowed” policy concerning overnight stays.

Munchkin tends to wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, get a drink of water or just kinda look around and make sure everything is ok (isn’t she cute:-)) and while she usually goes back to her own bed, maybe once or twice a week she comes to sleep with me or with Smoking Hot Roommate. Which is another one of life’s little pleasures for me. I am not a good bed sharer otherwise, but I like when she sleeps over. But, it means I had better be dressed, and there should probably not be any boys in the bed with me…hee hee. My door does have a lock, and I have certainly taken advantage of that lock for various nefarious activities, but I would rather not sleep with the door locked. Not that I would sleep naked all the time, at least not alone, but I have definitely fallen asleep after masturbating and not felt like putting clothes on. Now I just have to make sure I put some boxers on, at least. Ok, I may be sharing a little too much here…

The real reason I didn’t sleep well, and the reason I am in a pissy mood, is because my father called yesterday. Here is what I know about my father: he knocked up my mother, then left the picture right before I was born (close enough that she still thought he might come back, hence me having his name, but far enough that she couldn’t find him at the time, hence the misspelling). He never came back, nor did her bother to ever tell my mother where his family was, nor did he ever tell his family about me or my mother. I tried to find him a lot growing up; mostly because I think I wanted to smack him in the face for abandoning me with a raging drunk for my entire life.

Out of the blue, he found me when I was a junior in college. Actually he found my mother and even though she knew what a fuckhead he was, she also knew I had been looking for him so she gave me his number. I called him and then when I came home at Christmas I met him for the first time two days before Christmas (Happy Birthday Big Sis:-D). The meeting was kind of uneventful…I don’t know what I had been expecting, but I sort of expected to feel at least something. But I really didn’t, he was just some random guy that I happened to meet. I didn’t hate him, I didn’t love him; I just didn’t feel anything.

He had spent much of those 21 years in various jails in Illinois and Indiana on all kinds of crimes, usually involving drugs or stealing things to buy those drugs. The part that really pissed me off, though…when he was in Chicago, he lived less than five miles from me. And his entire family lived there, too. I had, of course, been looking for people with entirely the wrong name all those years, so I had never found them (I called everyone in the phone book with my name, and it is not an uncommon name at all. And Chicago is a big place.) So if my fucking mother knew how to spell, or if he had even one small shred of decency, I would have found them long before them. Also, I am going to write about them at length someday, too…his family is awesome, even if he is a fuck head.

I asked him if he had ever told his family about me and he said that he hadn’t. And I said I want to meet them and he said he wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. I pleasantly informed him that he could stick that idea straight up his ass, and that I was going to call them in three days, so he could either tell them on his own or I would tell them for him.

On Christmas Day I was sitting at home with Munchkin and Mom and some cousins and aunts (many of whom who I no longer speak to…more on that some other day, too) and the phone rang. “Hi, is AM there?” “Speaking” “Hi AM, my name is Sweet Aunt #1 and I think you are my niece.” And right then, on the spot, they invited me over for Christmas Day dinner. My favorite part? When she asked, I said that I had seen my father two days earlier and wasn’t ready to see him again, so they kicked him out…Lol. Anyway that is when I finally met most of the four aunts and uncles and 16 cousins that I had and never knew about despite the fact that they lived like five miles from. Thanks, Pops.

Anyway, I have seen him a couple times since then, and he calls me maybe once a month. He is back in jail, probably for good (something drug related and someone died, and though he didn’t kill anyone, his record is long enough that you don’t get out after things like that…fine with me). I saw him twice more before he went to back to prison…we met for dinner one day…and then I have been to see him in prison twice. I have no interest at all in seeing him, but Sweet Aunt #2 goes to see him regularly and she asked me to come a couple of times. Since she is super sweet, I go for her. He calls, and I guess he gets some credit for trying, but way too much time has passed for me to think that there is any place for him in my life.

So he calls and I usually talk to him, although only briefly and it usually irritates me. Normally he asks questions…how is work? Do you have a boyfriend? Where are you living? How is your sister? Have you talked to so and so? And I generally give brief answers…Work is good. Yes, I do have a boyfriend and no I am not bringing him to meet you. I still live in Boston but we are moving. Munchkin is good, and no I am not bringing her to me you either.

I am more pissy than usual because of something he said last night. I am not even sure if he meant anything by it or if he was just trying to be funny. He was making reference to his appeal attempts, which he says are weakened by not having a good attorney. They are also weakened by his 25 year history of breaking the law, but that is just a detail, I guess. So he made a throwaway comment like “Too bad I am not rich like your friends there. They always get the lawyers that get them out of shit like this.”

On the one hand, he could have just been making a joke. But he also could have been making a really snide remark about the snooty people I know (which, by the way, I hear all the time from my mother’s family…but fuck them) and an even more snide remark about how I am unwilling to help him get a better attorney to handle his appeal. Which he has mentioned in passing before, and to which I have told him that I have no interest in or intention of doing. Anyway, I could be reading too much into a harmless joke, but it put me in a bad mood either way and contributed to not sleeping well.

I could probably tell him to stop calling, but I don’t want to. He is in prison forever, I think he is ill (I don’t ask, but I have some suspicions) so I don’t even know how long “forever” is. If he wants to take in interest in his only daughter (big maybe there…) then so be it. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to speak when he calls, and I have no problem being the bigger person. So I sort of talk when he calls.

I don’t wish him ill will, I just don’t care that much. After all, we don’t even share a name.