Dumped a Hunchback

I’ve been in the land of zero internet of late, so no blogging; why?  Because I got the groovy art deco house I wanted and the girl and I packed up everything and moved.  In actual fact, we are still in the process of moving so it’s been a really hard few weeks!

There is nothing pleasant about moving – and now I’ve done it twice in a single year.  And this isn’t like shoving a few boxes in the car.  This is full on furniture and boxes of books and clothes and dishes and stuff moving!

Last week, through the bulk of the heavy shift, it was 40C+ days.  There is no escape from that type of heat; just a lot of dust and sweat trickling down your brow and back.   To my great joy, my sister and brother-in-law dragged their carcasses down the highway and helped me drag things from Glen Waverley to Ormond; two weekends in a row.  Frankly, if not for them and their trusty trailer I’d have sat on the bottom stair and cried my eyes out.

The worst part of weekend moving number 1, was that I went over at the crack of dawn to scrub the place from rooftops to rafters (or whatever that old saying is..) either way, I was going to de germ, de dust, de grime so that it was sparkling prior to any of my things coming through the door.  All good in practise however I arrived only to discover the power hadn’t gone on; the technician said the gate was locked so just left.  My sarcastic shout down the phone of “I don’t suppose he thought about lifting the freaking roller door that I left unlocked!!!!!!” didn’t get me anywhere. 

So we moved into a house and tried to manoeuvre stuff around but each night, I’d look down at my feet that were so utterly disgusting dirty that I prayed for power.  And when power came, the cleaning began.  I finished phase one of cleaning last night; pausing to point out to the girl that now we have to go through again – as the floors were done room by room – so walking into dirty and clean rooms meant we tracked dirt throughout!  What fun!

None of it was easy although some pieces were harder than most.  My piano remains in the new “clean freak Hell” until I organise a piano mover to bring her home.  My sofa’s [image depicting that utter debacle below] were lugged across town.  Dragged off the truck and proceeded up the stairs to the lounge room…  And then it went downhill.

We could have pushed and pulled for days and not got that sucker up the stairs… And that was only the 2 seater!  We stood around for a while, scratching our heads and masterminding.  I even called a removalist who I figured would know exactly how to get it up there!  He wanted $300 to come and look; even if he couldn’t get it up – yeah, whatever!  So down they came again; back on to the truck and out to Glen Waverley again (and ebay!)

Yep.  That's the sofa;
and it isn't going anywhere!

In amongst the festivities of moving, my dad, who isn’t healthy at the best of times, got sick so we halted cleaning/moving and raced down to the coast.  Poor bugger.  I hate seeing how old and frail my parents have gotten.  In truth, in my mind, I see my dad as the larger than life, big burly policeman that was my childhood.   Love you Dad xxx

Then it was back to moving.  The Squeeze even got to stay a night there prior to rushing back to Glen Waverley in time for the little creep to arrive – oh the joy.  School has started.  Truth is that I can’t even feel a glimmer of joy that he will miss my televisions and crockery.  He would live in a cave – all he wants is a room, a television and internet.  That is his world.

It was about then that the “talk” began.  As I had predicted; the Harridan had said things needed to change.  The Squeeze would need to have him week on and week off – cutting off my weekends.

Predictable.  I pointed out that perhaps they needed to address the issue.  IE: why on earth does a kid who is nearly seventeen, want to stay at home 27/7 (other than school) with mummy or daddy instead being out with friends, has been and remains the number one alarm bell!!!!  But the Harridan is too stupid to get that.  The Moodle is too cowardly to face that.  So instead, they ignore it; and the idiot that I did live with arms him with television and internet – “set and forget” style.  Way to go with those parenting skills.

So I remind him…   In our discussions on my moving (and reminders sent or uttered at least once every couple of days… “The first time you dump me on a weekend for the kid, we are done.  I want a relationship.  This is not that.”

All I get is some mumbling about it making sense.

So I catch up with the Squeeze on Friday lunch time and move some stuff and mention something about after work where upon he tells me that he has the kid this weekend…

Seriously; the very first weekend.

It was then that I decided that I just can’t do this anymore and in fact, I deserve better than this. 

When coldly moving the rest of my stuff the next day, the creepy kid hovers with a grin so wide it looks like his face had been slashed (and I know what that looks like since I’ve dreamed about seeing that plenty of times  J).  Right before I leave, when the Squeeze is nowhere to be seen, the mutt looks up to smirk at me.  (In fact my sister saw the smirk and stormed out; in case I ripped his head off lol).  All I said was “you must be positively beside yourself with happiness” to which he smirked wider and said “yes I am!”

Selfish little prick.  I am praying for a life of misery on this ugly toad of a kid.  But at least I no longer have to deal with his dead eye stare, manipulation and lies.  Snot on the wall.  Holding his wiener or wiping his butt prior to touching everything in the fridge. 

And so I turned and walked away, realising what a waste the last five years have been and wondering why I didn’t walk away the first time he put me behind everyone else in the world.

Now I guess my blog will be about moving on!