Seven Days: Day Two

Day Two
I’ll tell this part of the story as best I can. I have to have H. Help me fill in the blanks, because I blacked out intermittently throughout the day. In the morning, I was still pissed. More pissed, even. And not just at D. Pretty much everyone but the fam. A couple of guys owe us some money, and apparently have no intention of paying up. At some point, you need to make an example of a mo’fucker to let everyone know you’re not there to be stole on. On the day before day one, I had attempted to collect from one of them. He lives in some dudes house. I was under the impression that it was like an apartment separate from the rest of the house (I’m still pretty sure it is). and made the mistake of opening the door at the top of the white exterior staircase, and knocking on the apartment door. The kid answered the door, and I told him he needed to pay up. Then the home owner came out of the other part of the house and gave me grief about having opened the exterior door to knock on the kid’s door. I assured him I had no wish to disrespect him or his home, and explained that the kid owed me money, and needed to pay up. Also, I was under the impression that the apartment was separate (I’m still pretty sure it is). The kid said he didn’t have it, and I left, not sure what to do next. Back to Day Two: I went back to collect. I cannot have people thinking I’m here to be stole on! I knocked on the exterior door and waited. Next thing I know, a fucking pig shows up, telling us we have to leave. Then the home owner came out to give me the stink eye. I explained that the kid owed me money, and I needed him to pay up. Asked the guy why the fuck he thought he needed to call the fuzz. I wasn’t trying to cause him any trouble I just need my money. The fucking pig told me I would just have to cut my losses. FECK! Then I went to the home of the other guy who owes us. H. told me to stay in the car, he would handle it. Dude came out the house spouting some shit about it’s his sister’s house, as if that had some bearing on the fact that he owes us money. He didn’t have a shirt on. He has like a gimpy arm. He is chubby and pale and has the strangest little white jiggly man boobs.  H. Has man boobs, but they are full and luscious. A verbal altercation ensued, and all I could focus on was how the odd boobs were jiggling. Then I sprinted out of the car and charged, fist drawn back. I don’t know if H. stopped me, or I stopped myself. Though my emotions were nigh on uncontrollable, I really, really do not want to go to jail. I guess we went home after that. I don’t remember getting on Facebook and messaging this to my former boss, who fired me a few months earlier for something that was BEYOND MY CONTROL:
You are evil. I can’t wait until your daughter treats my son badly in school, and I can get her fired. I have two children who depend on me, and you are so evil that you probably don’t give a shit. Accidents happen. It is understandable for you to be upset about what happened. I am too. But it was an accident. It’s not a good reason to take the only income I had to raise two beautiful boys who did nothing to deserve this. I’m going to tell everyone how evil you are.
I do not remember posting this on my status:
(Former boss) IS EVIL. (Kid that got the cops called on me) IS EVIL. (Gimp with jiggle boobs) IS EVIL. (Some asshole who likes to talk hypocritical shit) IS EVIL. (Other former boss) IS EVIL. THAT COP IS EVIL. (Bully) in third grade IS EVIL. THE KOCH BROTHERS ARE EVIL. DONALD TRUMP AND HILLARY CLINTON ARE EVIL. THAT (tweaker who terrorizes the whole neighborhood) IS EVIL. (Babydaddy’s barrister) IS EVIL. WHOEVER GOT ME FIRED FROM EURKA NURSING CENTER IS EVIL. Some of you asshats need to figure out a way to atone. And if anybody goes whining to my parents about this status is EVIL too. I will refrain from committing assault, but would love a fair fight on neutral ground with any of you (except the pig and the third grader). Someone please take me up on this offer. I’m itching to resolve these issues.
I do remember posting this status:
For those who have been kind to me, thank you.
I vaguely remember going off on H’s schizo cousin. H had asked him nicely (evidently too nicely) to steer clear, and he continued to darken our doorstep occasionally, and sent one of his skanky friends over to ask about buying a car I’m not even trying to sell. I told him, in no uncertain terms, to stay the fuck away!
I do remember kissing my babies goodbye, whispering it’s not your fault, sending them to friends houses, then swallowing, I think, three almost full bottles of psych meds. When my level of consciousness became altered, H. dragged me to the bathroom and attempted, unsuccessfully, to induce vomiting. I don’t really remember anything after that. I’m told the EMTs tried to intubate me, but I was fighting like an animal. I fought the Versed and something else that started with a V that H. Couldn’t remember. They had to give me Succinocholine. I’m told my youngest returned as I was being loaded into the ambulance, and had a panic attack. I didn’t cover my bases and talk to his friends parents to be sure he could stay long enough. I will never forgive myself.

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