Monthly Archives: March 2013

A Record Breaking Day!

I feel like crap today. Crap on toast. I’m coming down with a cold and I almost called in sick to work. It’s only The Boss and I and this week, being Spring Break, has been insane, so I took some ibuprofen and spent some extra time in the dog park soaking up the sun before heading to work.

It was crazy busy almost from the moment I opened the door. The parade of people was for the most part normal, but there was this one woman…

Note to the woman in the Daisy Duke shorts – You’re* way too old for that outfit, honey. It’s not a good look for you. At all. OMG and WTF.

She had a spray tan that would have done any contestant on “Toddlers & Tiaras” proud, with fake boobs out to here, and a pair of Daisy Duke shorts with a border of eyelet lace around the leg openings that made them an inch longer and they were still short enough to show a half-moon of cellulite-filled ass cheek. It was all I could do to serve her and her three asshole kids while keeping a straight face. Srsly. Who told her that was a good look?

By the time the till was counted out (an hour after our “official” close time) it was the second highest earning day in the shop’s history. The Boss was there for most of it, and I am so happy about that because I likely would not have made it alone. It was crazy! The sun was shining and it was 70* a block from the beach at 11:00 – conditions unheard of here in March.

Tomorrow could be more of the same if the Weather Dudes are to be believed.

* Notice the correct usage of the contraction of You Are. Does no one pay attention in English class these days? I can’t count the number of memes and “inspirational” pictures on FB and other sites that are so poorly written I see red every time I have to view another piece of crap. Why do people “like” this garbage? I’ve started leaving comments on them, pointing out the spelling and grammar errors. I just can’t help myself.


Posted by on March 30, 2013 in Working Retail, You're kidding


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M said that he wants to take me out to dinner on my birthday next week. I did not commit, told him to shoot me an e-mail and forgot about it by the time I got home.

Awana came over to watch a movie and drink adult beverages and wanted all the dirt on what had happened with M. When I told her he wanted to take me out to dinner her reply was priceless:

“He wants to what? That’s dating! WTF are you thinking?!?” She actually said double-u, tee, eff, which was awesome! She also said that she hopes someday soon there won’t be any room in our conversation (or our lives) for Narcs and all their bullshit.

She’s right. I was thinking of a free meal where I would drop the bombshell that not only was I not going to waste my Summer taking care of his shit, I wasn’t coming back, either. Ever. I kinda had it staged in my mind and was working on some clever quips, reminding myself to get some cash so I could pay for my own meal if things went sour as they are bound to do.

Her words stopped me in my mental tracks. WTF am I doing?

Last year my birthday was so devastating that it still hurts to recall and I’m entertaining the thought of giving in to his request for a meal together? Sorry, I lost my mind for a minute there.

New game plan. The bunnies have food enough for a few weeks and won’t need any grooming for at least a couple of weeks, long after my birthday at any rate, so I have no reason to communicate with M at all. He has not sent any notes and if this next battle goes as I think it will, he won’t. He will wait for me to send him an e-mail, detailing where I want to eat and setting a time – that way he can claim that I wanted to see him, not the other way around.

When said e-mail fails to arrive in his inbox, he will wait until the evening of my birthday and then either call or send an e-mail saying how hurt he is that I backed out of a “promise” yet again and how pitiful he feels, blah, blah, blah, whatever. My Special Day will be all about him and he will expect an apology for my “bad behavior.” Ain’t gonna happen. Radio Silence will be maintained where M is concerned until further notice.

Now, I gotta get some sleep – an old friend is in town and she wants to meet tomorrow for tea. On Thursday my Mom will be here and she wants to see Towanda and go out for lunch so I better get this place into something like organized shape before then.

Congrats to FranticHippie of the comments for being Narc free for almost two weeks! Life only gets better from here 🙂


Posted by on March 26, 2013 in Emotional Abuse, Narcissist


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Mission Accomplished

Bunny food was delivered and Sabu and I got out with hide and spirit intact.

I called M from the feed store to let him know I was on the way. I also told a lie and said that I was running short on time and had to meet Awana so that I could put a time limit on our “visit.”

I put the bunny food away and went inside. Within five minutes he was whining that I had promised him a long conjugal visit and was hurt that I had made other plans. WTF?!? Srsly?!? Uh…Hell No!

The conversation went along the usual lines. He pleaded that he’s been good to me the last two months (really? I haven’t even been there, asshole!) and is so hurt and lonely and can’t afford to keep his house or internet connection, blah, blah, blah.

I told him that he’s not getting it. That his yelling and devaluing my feelings and denying me the right to an opinion and to share that opinion without fear of retaliation is a basic human right that he denies me.

He asked for examples. I gave them. He promptly turned it around so that I was to blame for his behavior. He then started with the crocodile tears and asking me why I came over if I’m just going to “hammer away at” him. Sigh.

Wash, rinse, repeat. He just doesn’t get it. No, he refuses to listen to my actual words – he’s too busy turning them around to suit himself. I pointed out that the problem resides in his brain, but he denies that as well.

We got back around to the Camping Incident and he gave me yet another warped view of events as he remembers them. I called bullshit and told him that the problem wasn’t what he thought happened, but that he felt berating me for three hours was a suitable response.

What I should have said, but didn’t think about until I was a mile away was, “I can’t control what men think about when they look at me or talk to me, but I certainly can control what I think and I’m not picturing any of them naked! You should respect me enough to know that. The fact that you don’t speaks volumes about our “relationship.”

He demanded that we “quit living in the past.” He told me that I need to admit that I hurt him too and bear at least half the responsibility for where we are now. He cried that I never gave him a nickname and that I never say his name. Oh, whatever!

More than anything else I felt disgust. Irritation, too. I can see behind his mask and he doesn’t realize that yet. It’s an interesting experiment, I have to admit, kinda like a train wreck full of crash dummies – no blood or gore, but interesting nonetheless.

Anyway. Sabu and I went to the dog park where over the course of the next hour five dogs came in and ran Sabu into a panting, drooling rag. Yay!

Since the shop has been so busy this week I thought it would earn me some Karma Points if I stopped by to see if The Boss needed some help. Sure enough, and I spent 1.5 hours scooping ice cream. The Boss gave me a nickel an hour raise 🙂 Woo-hoo! It just keeps getting better.

Off to a local cafe for take-out cod fish & chips and Sabu and I are home, warm, well-fed and ready for a nap. Well, Sabu is already napping – she likes to do everything first…


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WTF Moments at Work

I’ve mentioned that I work in an ice cream/candy store. I love my job, really I do – the shop is cute, we sell products that I can totally get behind, The Boss is great and has even let me take over on Wednesday nights and have my friends over for a Stitch & Bitch and he lets me sell my woolen goods and soap in the shop. Most days the customers are friendly and if they walk in grumpy they leave with a belly full of ice cream or chocolate and they are usually smiling.

That said, this week is Spring Break. Thousands of people head to the Coast (we don’t say “we’re going to the beach” here, it’s always The Coast) for a week of fun and frolic, overindulging in the local shops and generally behaving like ill-mannered tourists. Okay, not all of them are assholes, but quite a few are and they all wanted ice cream today.

Needless to say, I was working the shop alone. Since I am only one person, it really doesn’t make sense for a family group of TWENTY to complain when they don’t have ice cream cones stuffed into their evil spawn’s screaming mouths within five seconds of entering the shop to complain about the service.

Srsly. TWENTY people walk in, 2/3 of them screaming, nasty, dirty children and they want to be served instantly.

Lemme tell you what really irritates me:

Letting your children LICK the ice cream case. Really? They aren’t the first to lick the case today, but you don’t seem to care – it’s much better to have them silent for three seconds than to tell them to keep their fucking dirty mouths off my ice cream case. Gag!

Ditto for dirty fingers – the case looks like a sure source of infection and if I had come in after that group I would have left immediately because the germs were thick in the air and on all surfaces.

Licking and smearing up the glass-topped table like they’ve never eaten indoors before. I understand you’re tired and have had enough time with your little plague-carrying spawn today, but that doesn’t mean that you have to let them make even more work for me.

Letting  your children scream and run around the shop in total disregard for me or the other customers. Maybe the lady in the expensive suede boots does not think it’s amusing for your child to dribble ice cream out of its mouth onto her shoes. Srsly?

And then you make a snide remark about how maybe I should hire someone to help out? The shop was empty five minutes ago – what would my “helper” do then? Who does he think will pay to have someone standing around? Does he really think that the shops should have some people “on call” so when they see this group from hell walking down the street they can be prepared?

It was a busy day, lots of characters to deal with, and I like to think that I did a good job and kept my sense of humor, but when the last couple of teen boys walked in AN HOUR after closing and wanted service, well, I may have been a little short with them. The signs were off, as were half the lights and I was mopping the floor. All signs that a shop is CLOSED. Not for the tourists, oh, no, they expect the shops to be open any time they want a treat.

Yes, I could have locked the door, but then people stand outside, yanking on it, making it bang (scaring me half to death) and then they knock and ask, “are you still open?” Duh. I swear, these people leave their brains at home. If their money wasn’t so important to this little Tourist Town I would have a really bad attitude.

Tired. Just venting.

Tomorrow will be a stressful day as I need to take food out to the bunnies and inform M that I will not be house sitting for him so that he can take his Dream Cruise, secure in the knowledge that his shit will be Taken Care of while he’s gone. I will also be calling around to see if I can find a home for the buns. Haven’t decided yet if I’ll offer to take Pookie the Cat to live with Sabu, Towanda and I – it’s clear that she misses me and M is not fulfilling his duties as Cat Slave, so it might work out okay, but she would have to become an indoor cat, which she might not like. Then again, she is becoming more sedentary in her old age, wanting nothing more than a warm lap and constant petting. Until she’s done, then she wants to be left alone to sleep Over There.

We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

That is all. Carry on.


Posted by on March 24, 2013 in Working Retail, You're kidding



How did that happen? I’ve been blogging for 12 years. I author five other blogs and not one of them has ever garnered the following that this blog has. Evidently writing about abusive relationships is more interesting than writing about my wool addiction or building fiddles or sewing for classic boats.

Congrats 986918_f260

Anyhoo, Cynthia L. Baker of Simple Pleasures Photography is Follower Number One Hundred!

Uh, this is embarrassing, but I don’t have a prize ready to hand out. I don’t even have an idea for a stunning reward for reading my little blog. I could send some bunny fluff, or a vintage-style apron in your favorite color (yeah, I sew, too) or some handspun yarn, or a postcard signed by Sabu?

Any ideas, readers? I’ve never had enough readers to bother giving out prizes. What do y’all do?

I’d like to take a minute to thank all of you for stopping by, leaving comments, “liking” my posts (you don’t have to agree or have anything to say, it helps a lot just to know that you’ve read my rantings) and sending private notes to bolster my courage on this journey. You mean the world to me and I couldn’t have changed my life in such a wonderful way without all of you.



Posted by on March 21, 2013 in Friends, I totally Rock!



Visit with the Narc addendum

I forgot one little gem in my post about the visit with M.

He made a comment about cleaning house and then went on to say that it took him two weeks to clean all the “hair, dust and mold” out of the spaces I occupied in his house and now his sinus condition has cleared up!

He went on about it for awhile, saying that I had a lot of stuff that couldn’t be moved to be cleaned behind and that my storage system was not well thought out and he should have stepped in to make it better so he didn’t develop sinus problems.

WTF? He “gave” me a very limited space for my things. They had to be stacked up high against the walls in an unheated space with a concrete floor. No heater was allowed into that space, nor was I permitted to move things around when he was home as I “blocked traffic” and he was not willing to use one of the other two doors to gain access to the house.

The Rules just went on and on. I was trapped. My stuff was basically off limits to me. With two dogs and a cat in the house there is bound to be hair getting stuck behind stuff that doesn’t get moved often enough. Because no heat was allowed out there, mildew was able to grow.

So who is the cause of his misery?

It does prove that he is capable of cleaning if he wants to…


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He is determined…

…to get an income from me. Unbelievable! Here’s an excerpt from his latest e-mail (Bold mine):

That little cat is the crux of the plan. I get the impression that you would not appreciate being a slave to a little stripy cat.  But you know what she requires. If you can’t stay here full time, then I will have to revise my plans. Guilt, guilt, guilt.

As we discussed, I also need you to monitor the phone on a daily basis, a day lapse could mean a lot. To him – it means fuck all to me.

I need to know in the next two weeks. If you can’t make these commitments, just let me know and I won’t go. So he would have to cancel the only thing that keeps him sane all year if I don’t commit to covering his ass.

I could offer that you could move back here and when I come back from my summer travels, if we are not on better terms, I would move onto our boat. OUR boat? Since when? Financially it could be better. I don’t know what you pay now, but I would need $400 a month to cover the expense of moorage and haul-out maintenance. I would leave you completely on your own, if that is what you wish. As if!

He is pushing very hard for my commitment to house sit for him over the Summer. It would entail giving up my life from May to July, staying most nights with the kitty at his house, taking care of the yard and anything that comes up. Since this is a privilege, I will not be paid, or if I will, he has not mentioned it. Of course, the rabbits are still there, so I suppose he feels that space for them is adequate compensation for me.

Now let’s take a closer look at his note.

Guilt about the cat – check.

Another request that I monitor his phone messages (how I’m supposed to let him know he got an important call when he’s in Canada for fuck’s sake has not been ironed out) because he has a case open to claim disability (which I really have no problem with – he’s pretty disabled) and his lawyer calls – check.

Yet another request that I move back in – check.

One more request for a monthly income from me – check.

The only thing missing is a pity party.

Now, I’m not sure if I have this straight, so tell me if you think this note means what I think it means:

He gets to live on his boat (his Life Long Dream) while I live in his house and take care of all the bills (I assume property taxes will be included in that number,) maintenance, upkeep, etc.

He will need full access at all times because he has other boats on the property and all of his tools and materials that will never fit on the boat will have to stay there, so he can come over at any time to work on a project, collect tools or supplies, etc.

He will also (if his behavior towards his former tenants is any indicator) inspect the house and grounds for damage, cleanliness, tidiness, etc. any time he comes over. He will rage and lecture about anything he deems out of place and demand changes Right.This.Minute. Non-compliance will result in more verbal abuse and threats of eviction.

He will still own the house and can sell it at any time. He can also evict me if he gets a wild hair because there is no way he would ever be willing to sign a binding rental contract.

AND I will pay him $400.00 per month for all this.

Sounds like a Sweet Deal, eh? For HIM.

Am I missing something here?


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