Woman on the verge, or in the middle of, a slow meltdown

I need to get a sandwich board. It should say “Beware” on the front and “My husband is deployed” on the back. This would be my disclaimer that I am in no way responsible for verbally and emotionally assaulting you if I think you’re giving me shit.

Take, for example, Tony in Customer Service. It came to my attention that Corey and I owed money to the Louisiana Department of Revenue. I called to pay the bill, and provided the routing number and account number to Corey’s checking account, which is the one with all the dinero in it, on account of he’s not spending anything and I’m doing a little retail therapy these days. When Tony in Customer Service asked me what the name on the account was, and I told him “Corey D. Allbritton” he expressed concern over the fact that I wasn’t listed on the account. I explained to him that my husband was deployed and his power of attorney allowed me to conduct bank transactions on his behalf. Tony in Customer Service should’ve said “Okay, ma’am” and processed the damn payment, but noooooooooooooooooooooooo.

We went several rounds of “you’re not listed on the account so we can’t process the payment” and “my husband is deployed and I have power of attorney to use his accounts while he’s gone.” It was call and response for a couple minutes. THEN Tony in Customer Service had the gall to tell me he could not process the payment without speaking to my husband. (It is important to note here that this occurred the day before my birthday, when Corey had left on a jet plane bound for Kuwait that very morning.) Tony in Customer Service should not have said that. He got:

“I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME WHEN I TELL YOU THAT MY HUSBAND IS DEPLOYED AND HE IS OVERSEAS AND I CANNOT GET HIM ON THE PHONE TO TELL YOU IT’S OKAY FOR HIS WIFE TO ACCESS HIS MONEY. THAT IS WHAT DEPLOYED MEANS. I NEED YOU TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER OR SUPERVISOR BECAUSE I CANNOT BE THE ONLY PERSON WHO HAS EVER CALLED THE LOUISIANA DEPARTMENT OF REVENUE TO PAY A BILL OWED BY A DEPLOYED SOLDIER!!!”

Tony in Customer Service had the good sense to do as he was told and once I faxed him the power of attorney, he was eager to process my payment and part ways with me.

Yesterday, I took Murphy outside when I got home from work to do his business. Murphy was neutered early, so he does not lift his leg to make potty. He squats. So this heifer who was putting her baby in its car seat yells at me that I better pick that up. I told her it was Number One, and therefore there was nothing for me to collect.

She then proceeds to yell at me about “y’alls dogs” who “boo boo” in the grass where her children play and she’s seen my dog out there…and I tell her that she can’t see this grass from her house and she’s never seen my dog do Number Two in the grass right there (he does, and I have little baggies and usually pick it up, but she can’t see that from her windows.)

She tells me again that I better pick that up, and at this point Murphy has finished his tinkle and has commenced barking his little head off at her and pulling on his leash. My response to her was “HE’S PEEING” in one of those screams that hurts your throat, and she closed the door to her Jeep and drove off. I’m going wait until her Jeep is gone and let Murphy drop a deuce in the grass in front of her door and leave it there.

The point is that I am dealing with my feelings right now, which I’m not that great at anyway and there are lots of deep feelings to be processed this month. When Corey was at Camp Shelby, I could call him 14 times a day and send him 52 texts a day. It’s training for Corey to go over there and run successful convoys, but it’s also weaning the families from their soldiers. There is no adequate preparation for your husband going to a foreign country, thousands and thousands of miles away, with no way for you to get in touch with him. This. Is. Awful. I have a lot of strength and I am comfortable being on my own, but I am so empty and desperate to talk to him. He is amused that I clutch my phone at almost all times, and the two times he's called, it's been between 1 and 1:30 PM, which is 10 or 10:30 PM for him. When that time passes with no call, I have 15 minutes of total sadness and crushing disappointment.

So, to Tony in Customer Service and the Boo Boo Bitch who lives in the next building, you resist me at your own peril. I am exploring any and all means of dealing with my feelings, and screaming at you for being A Person Who Gives Me Difficulties may be just the therapy I need.