I’m on my period

There should be something called Guydol.

Let’s cut right to the chase.  I can be a real dick when I need to be.  There are probably a couple, a few, some of you who will say, “Holy shit, J.R., you must always need to be a dick, because you always are a dick.”  To them I say, “Whatever…”

For some reason, the past couple of days I’ve been even more dickish than usual.  I haven’t felt quite right and I’m definitely fat bloated at the moment.  I haven’t spewed blood from my junk, but I did cause the air to become quite foul on a couple of occasions.  My bad.  Relax.  No one was around.  Except the second time I walked into Drama Queen’s room, dealt and ran.

I’ve dropped an astonishing amount of F bombs–even for me.  I’ve also been getting all weepy and shit.  I hate that.  It’s stupid stuff that sets me off, like some lame ass TV commercial where someone ends up with “exactly what I wanted.”

I think, “God damn.  I’d like to be that dude.  He’s lucky.”  At the same time, little tears are running down my cheek and I’m now saying to myself, “Holy crap.  Where are your balls?  Don’t make me call myself Nancy.”  When I’m on the rag, I’m an emotional basket case.

Currently I’m making one of those major life decisions (more news coming next week) and I discovered a big problem in my house.  Both have me kind of on edge and I think that’s what triggered my period this time.

I moved into this house in September of 2009 and there have been a number of huge problems, but none like the one I discovered yesterday.   I didn’t have a Co2 detector in my house.  I was not aware of that.

Yes.  You read that correctly.  For the past 21 months I’ve lived in this old ass (built in 1929) house with my child and there has not been a legally required Co2 detector.  On Tuesday I went to the Town Hall and spoke with the City Planner/Code Enforcement guy.  He was a tool.

I explained that I was renting a house and it had no Co2 detector.  The guy didn’t even have the courtesy to come out and speak to me.  He chose to yell from his office around the corner.  He told me he’s done this for, “More than 20 years and I know the laws and there is no law stating there has to be a detector in a single family home.”

I explained to him that he obviously did not know the laws as well as he thought he did, because I had read the law just 10 minutes before speaking with him.  Actually, I believe the words I used were, “Dude, you apparently don’t know shit, because I just read it.”

He again informed me that I was mistaken and that there was nothing he could do.  Then there was silence.  “Dave?”  I asked.  “Yeah,” he replied.  “Thanks for the courtesy of actually coming out to talk to me.  I thought that was very polite of you.”  And I calmly walked off.

I went home and spoke with The Muse and she informed me that there was indeed a law and it was New York Law 378.  Specifically section 5.  The next morning I went back to see Dave and I asked if he would, “Do me the courtesy of coming out and talking to me instead of yelling?”

He came out and I asked, “Dave, what is New York Law 378?”  He informed me that he didn’t know.  I looked him square in the eye and said, “Huh?  Yesterday you told me you know ALL the laws regarding this.  Surely you must know NY 378.  If not, let me tell you what it says…”

At this point another guy walks in and I later find out that he’s the City Inspector.  He listens in.  I explain to him that the law states any home built or sold after July, 2002 must have a Co2 detector in the home.  My landlord bought the house in 2009, thus meaning the place needs a detector.

The inspector asked where I lived and when I gave him the address, his eyes lit up.  “Do the XXXXXX’s own that house?”  He asked.  “They do,” I responded.  How did you know?  He explained that he had been an inspector in a neighboring city for several years and that the family had a bad history with the nursing homes they own.

Apparently they rarely pass inspection the first time and I know they currently have several lawsuits pending for neglect at the homes.  I would say I rent from a slumlord, but this is a good part of town.

Long story short, the inspector was at my house within two hours.  Not only did he do a very thorough inspection, he found a couple of fairly major violations, including installing a water heater without a permit and not having the legally required, hard wired detector directly above it.  The old water heater could have leaked and we would never have known.

That guy did a pretty good job of getting me off my period for a short while, but Uncle Flo reared his ugly head again later.  I gotta find a way to get off the rag.  The sooner the better.  I don’t even know what I should take for my period, so I’ve been drinking Jack Daniels.  There should be something called Guydol.

If I’ve been overly snarky lately and if I seem like I’ve been not myself, I apologize.  When I was doing radio, moods like this did nothing but improve the quality of the show.  If I’m going to be on my period, I need to be on the radio.  Can someone please hook me up with a talk gig?  Thanks.

I’ve been nominated for a 25 best Single Parent Blogger thingie and I would really like it of you would vote for me.  You can CLICK HERE to vote once a day.   Thanks.  Spread the word and help the cause…