It's a hearty broth of anger, frustration and confusion, with a dash of worry, a few pieces of hopelessness, served in a dread bowl. Cause dread rhymes with bread. And that's funny to me at this point. That's how bad things are.
Here's the scene: My home looks like a construction site, things are either in storage or in a mysterious pile in the kitchen that no map could ever define. So my belongings are either limited or their location unknown. (Imagine spending more time trying to find a pen than it would have taken to craft such a useful tool.)
My refrigerator is no more. I really should clean it out, as this procrastination is not a worthy opponent to the disintegration that is occurring in there. My only method of cooking is a microwave. So that limits my diet to non perishables that are simply reheated in their own container, since I don't have any dishes.
I also have no means of transportation. A few months ago, I took my truck to EZ Lube to have the oil changed, and they somehow interpreted it as taking the oil out and sending me on my merry way -- until my car sounded like a washing machine. The dealership confirmed that they had ruined my engine, so for the past two months it's been this back and forth of them trying to take my vehicle to "their" mechanic, assuring me that I'd get a great replacement, then later finding out with the help of my glorious attorney that they were just going to put a junk engine in it all along. My truck is sitting at the dealership, untouched. EZ Lube has been paying for my rental for the past 2 months, which I know has cost them over $3,000 so far -- and they are now not so keen on paying it for another month, which means I need to take the car back until an agreement is reached. I'm taking it back on an empty tank, because there is no way in hell that I am going to spend the last money I have on a tank of gas. They can bill me later when things are not so tight.
So I'm relying on public transportation, which isn't too bad -- just time consuming. The stops are usually a good distance from my destination, which added to the 100+ degree weather, makes me need to be extremely motivated to be going wherever I'm going.
I still don't think I have it that bad, I just wonder how all this happens so quickly.
I don't like that it puts me in this terrible state of mind, especially when I am trying to figure out my future -- September is approaching very quickly. Will my house sell? Will I be able to afford a place? Do I need to find homes for my kids?
I'm hoping that I'm standing too close and that I cannot see the whole picture.
My last day at work is on Friday, thankfully. I'm taking Mrs. Socks in at some point to have some growths removed and her tail worked on, all with my last minute employee discount. I'm excited about that, but also trying to figure out how I'll get her there to have it all done.
AAAAAAAND my deaf male ferret has started becoming aggressive with my two older females, one who is blind and the other who is bald. I'm not sure if he's trying to be aggressive; he just gets on them and starts grooming them very vigorously, then chomps into them. They scream and he can't hear them, so he keeps doing it -- resulting in injured ears and terrified ladies. So now I've got him locked up in a spare bedroom. MEN.
So those are all the outside factors that are making my life just a tad bit less convenient than usual.
And I'm my normal mess, father's day is coming up and with all the decisions that are being made, I'm needing him more than ever before. It's been a lonely time for me. I'm a creature of affection, and right now I lack an emotional or physical closeness to anyone, and it's slowly tearing me down inside. I'm just walking through this maze with no real desire to find the end. It's great that I got accepted to school -- but as of right now, I'm content with that accomplishment. If I go, then great, but quite honestly, I am so tired of life.
It's interesting, because I can remember my grandmother telling me that my mother used to feel the same way -- She said she didn't want to live to be old, because it was something she didn't look forward to. She lived to be 35. It's not a suicidal thought, but something else... what can we call it? Danielle could come up with a term for it, I'm sure. Sometimes I think that I carry a degree of that; I just don't want to be around anymore, but it's not up to me to make that happen. It's upsetting because there are people fighting to live -- and I'd give them my life in a second if it were transferable.
It's not as dark as it sounds, really... I just feel like a spectator to everything that is happening. If it works out, that's great, and if it doesn't -- I'll make due.
And I re-read this and it doesn't even sound like the person I was, or the person I'd like to be. I don't know what to do about this. It just doesn't seem like a way to live.
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