I have only allowed myself one friend since I started living in Kintuckee…[or KinFuckie as an old blogging friend used to call it]…and really if I’d had me druthers, I wouldn’t have allowed her to become one. It was more the husbands encouragement towards her…invitations to supper, invitations to just drop in, which she does at least twice a week, sometimes three, yep, some days I just grit my teeth and smile through her visit…that made her my friend.

Upon rereading the above, it sounds, well it sounds kind of mean.

And I am laughing to myself when I say “mean”. I have come to find that what a lot of soft hearted [and soft-headed] people think of as mean, I think of as just saying it, or more so thinking, how it bloody is. I had my suspicions/intuitions early on in our relationship. We used to work at the same nursing home. Many a break time was spent together, well spent together until CindySue got herself fired.

She was a wonderful KMA…a certified pill-pusher. CindySue has a streak of generosity and caring twenty miles long. She always went above her “job description” towards her residents who in turn loved and adored her for it. Alas she took it upon herself to administer a previously subscribed pain-pill without the official doctors orders to one of them. Even though that particular resident has been on this medication for donkey years [for those unversed in Australian, donkey = lots] it still wasn’t “sanctified”. Anyway. That happened about eighteen months ago. The nursing home and it’s residents, well some of them, have survived CindySue not being there.

It’s only been recently that CindySue has accepted herself not being there.

I was getting to the stage of…Alright! Time to get OVER it Sistah!!

And I did find it funny that just when I had mentioned to Fatty that the next time that bloody CindySue starts whining about the nursing home I am going to tell her…being fired was the best swiving [LOL’s @ Jeri] thing to swiving happen to her…on her next visit she virtually said exactly what I had said.

Financially stable. She is making a swive-ton of money. Admittedly some of that is illegally. She is still claiming unemployment benefits of about $1200 a month. But has been earning another $600 a week on the side for the past eight or so months Yep. She is MORE than well off. Owns her own house. Heats with wood. Blah, blah blah.

Overweight. She is going, well going when she goes, to the FatDoctor to loose her belly that holds up her breasts. She has got a lot larger in body [and purse] since being fired. Well, being fired and her recuperation from a broken leg, coupled with the fact that her currently paid in the hand job is basically just being a body in the home of an older gent who had a stroke. Who has now recovered nicely but got used to having someone in his house. She has really staaaaaacked on the pounds.

Alcoholic. A mostly hidden one. I knew the signs early on. I have a mate [of twenty plus years] who is one as well so I am pretty aware of the traits displayed. I get tired of hearing the same shit. And that seems to happen with drunks. They repeat themselves a hell of a lot. Plus CindySue is a cryer. Nothing bloody worse than a crying swiving drunk.

To be honest with you, I am not prepared to deal with that part of her. Kind of a case of been there done that in a friendship before for a friend. Not willing to do so again.

So we turned her onto pot.

Arhahaaha!

I know. Wicked.

But we figure she might be a happier smoker than she is a drinker.