Dear Roger: Shock the Monkey

This past week was the week from fucking hell. Pardon the crass language, but let me tell you what, they say that swearing supposedly reduces stress and if that is the case, then I should throw in an expletive about every other word to keep things almost level.
Where do I start? Should I begin with where I turned 43? Missed my 25th high school reunion that I really wanted to attend because my ex cost us soo damn much money I really just could not pull together that amount of cash for that level of plane ticket.
Or perhaps I should mention the fact it rained for almost 2 weeks straight up until yesterday, and then, when it finally clears up, I have a rotten cold from hell, complete with fever and headache and sick stomach and the works? Yeah...that was great, laying inside on the couch feeling like my head was going to explode every time the sun shone through the blinds while the kids looked sad that it was yet another day they missed being out in a park somewhere.
Maybe its because yet another boss has been fired and I am going to have to deal with yet another management change where I not only work, but where I live. I had grown to like my last boss, so I not only lost a decent boss, I lost another friend with no rhyme or reason to it and now I have to try and figure out what the hell the new person is going to be like and what their motivations are. Yeah...good times.
Or shall we consider the fact that some scrote keeps raping my bank account? Thats a real fun one. They managed to get the account and routing information and they hit it pretty good, not that there is ever a lot of money in there, but its all we have, so to have some scumbag taking it and forcing me to have to spend time on the phone with the bank sorting it all out and changing bank account information is not a lot of fun for me. Speaking of scumbags and money, the ex still just cannot seem to come up with a dime for the kids or any of the money he owes me, so of course that makes life even more fun and he has the audacity to complain that I turned his daughter against him. I told him that he did that himself, and when I asked her what she felt about the matter, she said,"Hes never been around. He doesn't call me, he didn't get me anything for my birthday and he always lies to us. Hes mean. I don't like Ed every much." Harsh, but shes 8 and she tends to speak her true mind and say what she is thinking.
More kid related fun is trying to get the eldest to understand that his nerd game is not the most important thing in the world and he needs to be doing his schoolwork. The constant having to remind him to get off the damn game and do his work was over the top this past week and the bickering was fierce so I just put parental controls in place that let me shut the damn thing down completely and that is what I do. I need a nearly 6ft tall nerdraging walking hormone pissed off at me to add to the fun.
Lets then add in the fact that the little band I love so much lost the rest of their damn minds. They seem to be operating under the "Lets totally self-destruct and go out in the most memorable way possible" method of rock star excess, so they changed the name of the band to "Pink Fuzzy Animals" which immediately brought to the mind of most fans over the age of 15, "Furries" and no one I know wants to be anywhere near associated with that little bit of strangeness, but most of us just think that they are trying to see how far they can push the fans before we say,"Yeah, nooo....im out" I reached that point. I refused and dug in my heels and called "Bullshit Shenanigans" and while I love the music and the kids and I will support the hell out of their other band, I wont go within a mile of that mess, and my new background is evidence of that protest.
Of course when you dare to protest something that involves youngsters though, you get controversy because they expect everyone to be good little sheeple and fall into lockstep and just lap it up, and like chickens when there is one with an odd spot on it, the rest of the flock will try to attack and peck you to death for being different. I caught some crap for taking a stand and saying ,"Nope, not gonna take it." But I have found a growing group of folk who are starting to say the same. We love the music, love the kids, we love our memories and we will live in them until the boys find the minds they lost somewhere along the way.
But you know, none of this shit matters one iota compared to the biggest news that has had me stressed out and worried and full of dread. I am one of those frustrating people that will tell you that there is nothing you have that I want or need, nothing you can take from me because I have nothing. Im poor and I make no bones about it. I am buried in student loan debt, I have a dead beat ex and 4 kids I support on a shoestring, and I walked away from everything to escape my ex so I dont even have a car or retirement of anything. If someone sues me, they just would end up frustrated and in debt themselves. I dont care about anything except...my people, my little flock of family, friends and others that I live and die for. My children are first among them, my sister is next. My sis has been through a hell of a lot, including facing breast cancer 3 times. She wants to live. She has a great life with a husband who loves her and kids who love her and the storybook family. She is my partner in crime and when we get to see each other, its like my best friend in the whole world is by my side.
My sis called me the day before my birthday to tell me that she has a mass in her uterus, its looking like its infiltrated into her gut. Shes going to have surgery around the first of the month. For the first time since she started dealing with all the cancer bullshit, my sis sounded rattled.
I dont think there are enough cuss words to take away this kind of stress.