Epiphany

*The Neighborhood Queen apologizes in advance for the overt usage of profanity (more than usual, so shut up) in this post. But I'm hurting, y'all. So forgive me, I can't deal right now. Thanks.*

I realize why I was so relaxed a while ago. It's because I was about to be metaphorically slapped in the face. You know... the calm before the storm kinda shit?  I haven't done anything to anyone, but folks like to do me indirect injury. Which to me, is worse than being frontally assaulted. I could take it better if I saw it coming. What's really bad, is people's parents seem to like doing this the most. I blogged here before about my estranged best friends. I deal with the loss, because there is nothing else I can do. I miss them, but life had to go on because their sista luv for me wasn't enough to keep them from being envious and scanless towards me. Two out of three of the homie mommas disliked me, always talked about how skinny I was, trying to make it seem like they were joking. Once I cut contact, the mommas couldn't mess with me anymore. But there was the issue of one's step-dad... I worked with him. Now my homegirl's step-daddy was my boss, and we were cool in general. He helped me get into the field, and I'll always appreciate that. But I'll be damned if he didn't seem to always make it a point to rub her success in my face. There was a time when I was making a lot less than she was, and he came in there like, "Oh yeah, [name removed] brought in like $1300 a week and she's all upset because the IRS did her dirty". At the time, I was barely clearing $440 a week after taxes. Then, when she moved into her apartment, he kept telling me about it and asking me when I was gonna move. I told him, "well, since I decided to waste my time at Loyola, I've accrued serious debt. So I cannot afford to move right now." She had a car, and I didn't, he kept at me about that. When I bought the 'stang it shut him up for a second. He gloated on her relationships; how her man had a tight Monte Carlo, how they went out, and the shack up adventures that ensued, yadda yadda, yadda. I didn't trip. My men were shit, I paid for everything, was the only one employed and mobile, but such was my life. I didn't wish bad on the homies because I was down in some respects. I loved them girls like my sisters, for real. For some reason unbeknownst to me, he took pride in comparing her to me and me coming up short. So since I walked out on that slave-job and came up, he's been emailing me asking me things about the lab (which he should have known... he is the boss). Today he emailed me asking about the incubator rack, and followed it up with, "Did you know [name removed] got married?" SLAP! Of course I didn't know, I don't talk to her. I wrote him back and told him to make sure he congratulated her for me, and not to forget. I don't wish harm on anyone's marriage, and that was my girl. She deserves a good marriage as much as the next sista. But damn. Muthafuckas know that the one thing I want is a family. Fuck this job, fuck the Mustang, fuck my degree from Loyola Stank-Ass Marymount University and fuck the money I'm making now. I'll trade all this shit in for my own family and a man who loves me as I am. He, her muthafuckin step-daddy, like everyone else who knows me, is well aware of this. And he tells me she's married, when she didn't even tell me. Spiteful muthafucka. Yet one more twist of that knife, eh? And don't give me that shit about he's just trying to share good news. It's never that innocent with the parents of my estranged friends. Everything is a fuckin competition with them. They're competing with me on their daughters' behalf. He knows we don't talk. He knows why. Shit, he's known me for 10 years. It's bullshit. Well it's time for me to go home. I think I'll go straight to bed, fuck the rest.