Caterwauling

Went to Mickey’s Not So Scary Halloween Party on Mom’s birthday Friday night.

And guess what, it got rained out.

It was a horrible day. Sitting at the bar — Mom’s and my bar –alone last night made something absolutely snap in me.

My beaded Fitbit band that she bought me broke. Like hello sign. She would be so sad.

The workday started out typical. Fridays are scream-worthy on their best days. Then people outside my department start to dream up extra projects for us that cannot wait.

And then the stuff that IS in our control goes sideways. And those outside people say dumb shit like, “Are you going to send an alert?” Like, multiple times a day from multiple directions,

There are two possible answers for “Are you going to send an alert?”

One, no. (Because do you really want me to cause a riot and make member care’s life hell for no reason.)

Two, yes. (Because, I do not need you to tell me to get off my ass and help member care’s life from becoming hell.)

If we are all here to tell other departments how to do their jobs, I would be delighted to return the favor. I used to love my job till doing everyone else’s became a thing.

Anyway, I got all my work ready by 3:30 so I could go to Magic Kingdom for 4.

Well. I got on the tram at 4:15. Got on the Monorail at 4:30.

Got OFF the Monorail at 5:15.

Because shit started blowing up so bad that I was texting (no I am not sending an alert NOW; OK FINE I will send an alert NOW) and completely missing my stop.

TL;DR the SEC ruined the sending of two publications tonight. After ruining basically the past two weeks of my life, indirectly.

I always joke that “If I were ED” — shit, I want to tattoo that.

Well, today, I am joking, “If I were EDgar” — since it was EDGAR who crapped on my Not So Scary Halloween Parade.

WHICH … after murdering my battery on the work stuff, the event got rained out.

The parade started an hour late.

Then the Hocus Pocus spectacular literally got through two songs before the announcer said “hexing” inclement weather ruined that.

I tried to hang on for fireworks, But naturally, the rain got to me and I got on the (Express, thankfully) Monorail.

Which … the fireworks started when we pulled into the station for MK parking.

So we have ED and MK departments at work. I run ED. MK runs the world. I really hate that I can’t write MK for Magic Kingdom without getting hives.

I am not kidding about the hives. My legs are broken out after today. Though maybe that’s because Magic hides in my bed all day. I have gone through three lint rollers but that little shit has left his mark. Whilst Bella has destroyed all the other furniture.

In any event, I did not want to work today because I knew it would be a horrible day.

Full day, half day, whatever — I didn’t want to deal with anyone. Not even the people I like.

I texted my cousin, who just had her mom’s first heavenly birthday on 8/1, and I said man I am sorry I didn’t reach out more. I did not realize how fucking AWFUL it was.

She knows the characters who usually make me want to order bodybags. But today I said, my god, it’s the people I LIKE who are making me look bad.

She said they were probably always that messy but my tolerance is shot today.

Anyway, from being sad and depressed and stressed out and then the Big Thing that was supposed to happen at work on the 22nd (but, SEC) but got punted to the 31st and now to the 6th (hi, regulators!) … is being moved to Monday.

And not only did I spend a good quarter of my day on this project, but my entire staff stayed till 7:30 first to make it happen and then second to completely redo the plans as I walked around a park with dwindling phone battery and NO GODDAMNED ALCOHOL.

When I finally dragged my wet ass home, I went to the hotel bar at 11:11 … and it had closed at 11.

I texted my mom’s friend that I want to die. I am sad and I miss my mom and there has GOT to be more to this life than living in my town and dying at my computer.

She made some weird comment back that tells me she’s jealous of my life. Which she was always jealous of Mom, her whole life.

And I made some comment that I paid for most of this trip with credit card points. And she sounded envious of THAT too.

Anyway.

I really needed to whine. I mean, I know Psycho is out there so glad I’m having a bad run of luck. Probably Cindy too.

But unlike them, I will not dwell for 20 years on it all. I will figure out how to be happy again. How to be grateful again. How to LIVE again. And they will just be the losers who should have left this earth because no one will love them the way I loved my Momma and she loved me.

In the meantime, I am just so bummed that it was a miserable day for her birthday.

I expected no less, mind you. And it still beats being miserable at home.

But I just feel like I wasted her honor, not having the bandwidth to miss her more when all I wanted to do is die myself.

“Your integrity makes me seem small
You paint dreamscapes on the wall
I talk shit with my friends, it’s like I’m wasting your honor.”

Happy birthday, Momma.

I wasn’t sure how to commemorate it. We all know I just couldn’t be at home, so I needed to run away to the Haus of Maus.

Which would have been a great trip if I didn’t have to work. But, those emails aren’t going to send themselves.

I took myself to see the new “Beetlejuice” movie yesterday. Which was so fun.

When I came out of the AMC, it was raining again. It has rained every day of my trip. And I have worn more ponchos and stepped in more “street soup” than I care to count.

In any event, I couldn’t stomach another wet poncho day, so I drove to I-Drive with the intention of going to Mellow Mushroom.

But as luck (my luck, so Irish) would have it, “Dead Mom” came on shuffle. Christ.

So I pulled into Delmonico’s and said what the hell.

I wasn’t thinking birthday. I could very clearly hear Momma saying, “Treat yourself. You’ll regret it if you didn’t. Use my green card, honey.”

I still carry her green debit card in my wallet. I closed that account but it sits with her driver’s license in a zippered pouch. I worry more about losing those more any of my active cards.

I got our favorite, the Dirty Martini. Unlike our last visit together, it was SO good. I had one and then had one for Momma.

I took a pic of the last booth we sat in. We picked it so that we could hide her little walker out of the way.

I think this one (below) was our favorite booth. Back corner by the bathroom. At least, it was the one we picked 90% of the time.

We often got the seasonal cheesecake. I always tried to get there in November because Momma loved pumpkin best.

As luck would have it, the September cheesecake is peanut butter. So I didn’t have to think twice about ordering it to celebrate Momma with.

As for food, well, that was the source of a nervous breakdown on my part.

We always sat at the bar because Delmonico’s has the most amazing bar menu ever. But I got there after happy hour, which, I didn’t know there was a time limit on our favorite snacks.

Seriously, I used to spend $150 on bar food and martinis for us. You could trust us to make up for any discounts.

My bartender was amazing. Drinks were amazing. I wish Mom’s last Dirty Martini there was amazing but at least the food was great.

But when I said may I have the filet sandwich with greens, she said I needed to order two.

I asked her to repeat that. She said I can do it but it’s past happy hour so I have to put an order in for two.

The tears fell straight out of my head. And wouldn’t stop.

I said, “I used to come here with my mom. We always ordered two.”

She said, “I’ll give you a moment.”

I thought about getting my sandwich and giving the other to the cats.

But I did something I never did there other than on a date. I ordered my own meal.

I got the filet, which was exquisite. And a side of penne marinara — mom’s favorite sauce/pasta, and we often took home an order so she could have it the next day. And of course greens.

I tipped the gal all the cash in my wallet. She looked over so grateful. I said you’ve put up with me so beautifully. Thank you for making this easier on me.

Everything over the past three months has been so hard. So freaking hard.

But I told Momma in my head, sitting at that bar without her was the hardest yet.

Harder than watching her die.

Harder than cremating her.

Harder than watching doctors and nurses and hospice workers treat her like a throwaway.

Harder than hearing her say no more treatments and having to sit quiet because it was her decision and my job was to support her since no one else would.

She will always be young and beautiful. I’ve said this before.

But now, I will say she will always be young and beautiful and sipping a Dirty Martini at the bar at our favorite Orlando steakhouse.

Better days …

Even if I never get back here, I’ll always remember her happy.