In my mind, hell is a dry heat. At least humidity, while the cause for bad hair days, doesn’t make your skin age as quickly as dry weather. I’m sticking to that.
I’d say my brain is fried from all the activity around here, but it feels more poached than anything. There’s still a chance I could pull out of this liquid of despair before the yolk is solid.
At 3 am I awoke in a panic. I downed 2 mg clonazapam and smoked a bowl. Which left me relaxed but still panicked. Explain that. I realized I’m not happy. I have a new condo, new furniture and relatively few problems I can’t somehow dig my way out of. No more problems than other people have. I should be HAPPY, dammit.
I should LOVE this place. My first home. And a fucking nice one at that. But, jm and I keep finding little things that need to be fixed. We keep sighing at the mountains of boxes teetering in the hallway, the library, the bedroom. We keep fretting over money and the fact that one of our dogs doesn’t discern outside from inside when it comes to moving his bowels. Is peeing on my shoes some sign of affection that I’m misinterpreting as willful obstinance?
Sure, I don’t feel like I deserve such a nice place to live. Guilt. Lots of guilt. The money came from a lawsuit over my brother’s death. More guilt. Have I paid enough quarters into the Karmic parking meter to stay here? Is this gift going to result in another 15 years of therapy?
In order to clear some of the steam, I decided to crunch some cold hard numbers. My mother asked me last night, “What are all your debts?” I couldn’t tell her. I dunno. Mostly, I ignore any bill until it’s past due and the collectors call to talk to me in person. I pay everything last minute. Or not at all. My credit rating is the lowest I’ve ever heard of. I’m fucked.
This morning, I made a list — Monthly bills. The other list — Payoffs. The kind bank guy I spoke to said that my debts were not very bad. That’s easy to say if you have an extra few thousand to throw at the problem. Which I don’t because I can’t get a home equity loan, even though I’m sitting on a paid off condo. My monthly bills, also not too bad. I have no mortgage. No kids. Still, I have to work my ass off at two jobs to make minimum payments.
This is why I ignore a lot. This is why I imbibe and smoke and sleep a lot. I’m no good at this adult life. The goal, then, could be to enjoy this life as the irresponsible child that I am. A good goal, and probably easier than finding my financial stability and saving for retirement.