I'm writing here now because I need somewhere to spew, that's not out in the open, like Facebook. Not a lot has happened. Well, like one great big thing, and a couple of little things.
Well it came onto the end of November, the current oil lease was about up. I was hoping for a modest increase over January 2005's money. Tandye and I spoke to a really nice man named Alan, from Cordillera Engery, signed lots of papers, and for a really , REALLY short time was looking for a promised $144,000. Then, I think it was the next week, we learn the current lease holder (with 2 or 3 weeks left in the lease) was going to drill. To the uninitiated, it's "Wow!! Drilling a well!! Your going to be rolling in money from now on!!" Well, it doesn't end up that way. Originally, in December 2004, there were two leases. They drilled pretty quickly on the one lease. I kept waiting and waiting for that royalty money to roll in. I didn't get any until at least six months after the well was drilled. It started out to be a couple hundred a month (a life saver after I got fired from Cendant/Triliegiant/Whatever), then every other month, now I'm lucky if it's $90 a quarter. So when December 14 rolled around, the original end of the lease, Alan, the really handsome, nice man from Cordillera Energy, called to apologize. I kind of dumped on him. I think I apologized, at least I hope I did. And then I cried. And cried. And cried. I cried all day. I gave it the day, and felt a little better. I'm not getting a new (or new to me) car any time soon now. I can hope for a little of the surface damage money, and if so, I wish it would come soon, I'm down to a dollar in the checking account. (I'm kind of stupid with money).
So that was the big thing. I was getting $144,000, but now I'm not. In six to nine months I can hope for $90 a quarter.
My husband's in more and more pain. Everyday he says he wants to die. I tell him, unfortunately, his arthritis may cripple him, his Type II Diabetes might try to destroy his body, but they won't necessarily kill him. I get tired of living in the Pit of Despair. Maybe this is what it was like living with me when I was depressed, but I (at least in my mind) tried not to inflict my downerness on other people. And he's more and more into guns, into (yuck!) Glen Beck, and Rush Limbaugh (another yuck!), and is watching The 700 Club! Really?! We are sooo far apart anymore. I don't feel I matter. Not at all. A part of me wishes he would die, that that would be a relief on my part. But I would lose the house. I guess I just have to bear it.
The other thing bothering me, I haven't heard from my son in just over two weeks. I guess that's not long. He IS in Japan. But since Randy left a mean remark on Jimmy's Facebook page, I'm afraid he's blaming me. He's said repeatedly he doesn't blame me. But I do. He's such a good guy. I let Randy and his mother Sandy bully him. It IS my fault. Yet he loves me anyway.
I just haven't heard from him in a while, and that kinda drives me nuts.
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