Where I Reveal Myself To You In Terrible Ways

Most of these blog entries will be a record of self-loathing or depression.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Things I Accomplished and Didn't Accomplish

<u>Things I Accomplished</u>
washed two loads of laundry, almost everything

<u>Things I Didn't Accomplish</u>
Talking to the student loan people
Calling about getting other financing
Writing my nephew
Writing my uncle
Writing my old boss

So you can see why I'd be disappointed with myself.

On the other hand, I learned a whole new rack of information from Not Landlady; a bunch of information about her son that I didn't know before; namely that he's been married and divorced and had a second girlfriend for three years who lived in this house with her two brothers. It's kind of a crazy story. 

Also learned a bit more about the third housemate, a guy (kid, to me) called Jeff. He's apparently a dialysis tech and he works in the city - in a place I drive past all the time with the day labor crew! And I remark on it, because it's got parking on the roof, which nowhere has and I find really cool. So that was neat.

Oh, well. Guess I've got to look at the positive. And now I've got to leave for work.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Saturday Redux

Okay, I'm going to try to write over what I wrote on Saturday evening that ended up getting erased. And I'll try to be careful with my fingers this time.

I was talking about the book I was reading. I started it on Thursday night, when I went to Popeyes as a way to get out of the house and not feel so bad about being home. I ended up finishing it Saturday evening shortly before I started writing that entry.

It was a hard book to read, in the beginning. It was a great story, because it brought up a lot of real, difficult issues, and ways that people get twisted up in the thick of things; how they twist on themselves and how they twist on others. I had a hard time reading it because the main character kept doing things that damaged herself and you wanted to reach into the book, to shout at the book: "Don't do that!" but it would do no good. 

But about two-thirds of the way through, the book changed. It took on a totally different character, and it veered hard away from the difficult book it had been at the beginning.

One of the red herrings I liked, and was interested in following. If it had been the real answer, I was interested in how it all connected back. But like I said, it was a red herring, and the real explanation got ludicrous real fast. 

Let me put it plainly: any time there's a murder conspiracy involving a U.S. Senator, you've entered a whole different genre of book.

Now, when I saw the author's name on the book, I recognized it; I had bought and read one of her books years ago (might still have it floating around somewhere). That book had been a crime/mystery novel, so that's kind of what I expected, but the cover of this book was very different. It reminded me of all the Jodi Picoult novels I have; that same "slightly larger paperback" size and a full color picture on the cover that looked like something you would get in a store-bought frame. 

And Jodi Picoult was quoted on the cover! What more could indicate this was going to be a gut-wrenching novel like one of hers, filled with the difficult issues that can't be easily answered??

But that wasn't how it turned out. No, it turned into some kind of domestic Robert Ludlum story, with murder and corruption at high levels and corporations that were eeeville; when the main character was ranting (whether out loud or in her head) about corporations choosing profits over people, it just felt so trite, so weak. There's nothing nuanced about those kinds of arguments; and people never acknowledge that erasing a corporation also erases hundreds or thousands of jobs along with it. The relationship, as twisted as it may be, is symbiotic, and the author even depicts some of the workers, giving them very human and kind features. 

So I was kind of disappointed with the book, although as I say, it would have been hard to read had it stayed the way it was going. It would have left things unresolved, and people would have remained unhappy and there would have been nothing you could do about it. 

But that's life, and to some degree that's what you've got to deal with, so it's cathartic to see it in others. I know I like it because I never see it in my own life because I avoid complications and commitments like the plague.

Instead, the book ended like a fairy tale, with [fairytale voice] everyone friends, and it's just so wonderful! Blah.

I left the house on Saturday around...Hm, I'm not sure now. I think ten or so - ah! The bus was coming at quarter of ten; so I left the house around 9:30. I got to the post office around eleven thirty and I had stopped off at the discount store to buy boxers and t-shirts (and ended up with socks and greeting cards as well; for someone who sneers at our consumerist society, I realized, I'm the worst example of it). 

I left the post office around one and went to McDonalds, ate and read my book. I got a second round of food and a chocolate shake (too much) because it had begun to rain and I didn't want to walk in the rain. 

In the end I did, and my second mistake was not calling about a bus because one passed me five minutes after I left McDonalds and there was a stop right out front. I felt kind of stupid but was able to let it go pretty quickly. 

I took the train home and read most of the way - well, probably 90% of the way. When I got home, I sat down in the living room and began to read. I originally sat on the couch, but I moved because it was too dark. I sat on a cheap folding chair by the window and had the sunlight come in over my shoulder. By five o'clock the book was done and I was back up in my room, laying on the floor.


I spent too much money this weekend. I spent $43 at the discount store, probably $15 at McDonalds, another $15 on the Metro and then on Sunday I paid $49 for the stupid groceries I bought (I call them stupid because they weren't worth what I bought and I probably didn't need most of what I bought). I spent another $11 this morning on breakfast and lunch and I'm starting to worry about running out of money for rent (although I got paid today, so I could look). Plus I've got the whole student loan thing I'm not dealing with; I've got to find out if I can pay them come the first of the month or if that won't be enough to hold off default, since I'm now two months past the limit. I have to call them and find out, but part of me doesn't want to call them because I don't want to know if I've painted myself into another corner. But I should call them because what else can you do? That's how you resolve things; you talk to people.

On the way home today a guy zoomed by me on a bike and I thought: "I'd like to do that; go zooming on a bike;" and then my logical brain said "Well, it's not a whimsical thing; you've got to be prepared; so you've got to get in shape, et cetera, et cetera." Everybody that does these physical things prepared beforehand; took time and built up to it, but I just want to treat it like a game and slip in and out and you can't do that. It's another one of those things I have to re-learn (or learn in the first place because I didn't when I was young).

I was thinking of taking pictures of my room today, to document what a shit show it is and how I live like a homeless person. I'm too good at depressing myself.


Yesterday wasn't a complete bust but it felt a little like it. By the end of the night I had a headache and hadn't done what was necessary for my own life, so that's a little bit of failure. 

I was going to do some work over the weekend to make up for the fact that I did almost nothing on Friday; Friday at work I sat and read articles on Huffington Post and got nothing done.

Saturday I told you about (somewhat; before I got angry).

Yesterday I got up and went to the grocery store and bought a bunch of crap I didn't need (aside from detergent and toilet paper). I told myself that when I came home I was going to do wash, but I didn't; I sat at the kitchen table and watched videos and ate.

Around one or so I texted Nurse Friend to see what she was up to because there was a possibility of us going to the store for me. She responded that she was having a really bad day, was severely anxious, but couldn't identify why. She asked if I could come over and just be around to help her get work done. 

So that's what I did: Nurse Friend came and picked me up and I went over to her house and sat around (and napped) while she did work for herself. She said it was very helpful, that she was able to get a lot done, so I'm glad about that.

My nap wasn't very smooth and I was groggy when I woke from it. I wanted to go back to sleep but kept focusing on the parrot making all kinds of loud and piercing noises instead of concentrating on my grogginess. 

Eventually (maybe from stress), I got a headache. It might have been that hadn't drunk a lot of water that day; I'd didn't feel like I had drunk even one bottle's worth. 

She brought me home at about nine and any work that I had thought of doing went out of my mind; work hours are definitely over by 9pm. So I went up to my room, watched a video (that was new!) and then watched a couple of reruns of one of my favorite shows (which I got into because of a housemate). I took an Advil for the headache and, after a while, it worked.

Now I'm anxious about work today and I leave for VT on Thursday and I have to begin to prepare for that. Man, my life is a mess.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

The Recurring Fantasy

I was going to - sorry; I was hoping - to borrow my brother's car to go up to PA yesterday, but that didn't happen because the car is damaged somehow and he needed to assess the damage. 

I damaged the car. No one else has used it in the past two weeks. Apparently I fucked up the bumper and didn't even notice. 

The problem is, this very probable. I heard a scraping noise once when I was backing out of a parking space, but I didn't investigate it. I don't know cars, and so I think I figured it it was no big deal; it would snap back. Guess that didn't happen.

I think he got mad at me about it, but he didn't tell me, and, after a bit, that made me mad.* And so I had the fantasy I always have when this kind of things comes about. It's about money. I go to his house (or any of my siblings I feel are critical of of me) and I give them a large paper shopping bag. In the bag are large blocks of cash - ten, twenty, fifty thousand dollars. It's a kind of "fuck you; is this good enough?"

*Alternate explanation: He didn't tell me to be nice; he wasn't mad and spiteful but rather merciful and trying to be gentle with me by leaving me ignorant and not not criticizing me for fucking up his car.

Bright Side?

One small advantage of this miserable bed situation is that there's no appeal to laying around in bed all day (and since there are no comfortable chairs in the place and I don't - or wouldn't - feel comfortable laying on the couch downstairs, there's no real place to laze about at all).

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Goddamn The Floor Is Hard

It's not really the floor, actually; it's the clothes in the bag that I've put under my pillow. As I've said before, it may as well be a log, seeing as how hard it is.

I distracted myself earlier by watching TV. I lost myself in a few shows and then around 8 or 8:30 I went downstairs and ate something. I thought about the entry I lost and I may try to write it again tomorrow. I was thinking: this is why I'm not an actor or a writer: I can't do things twice; once the original spark has gone out of it, I don't care.

I forgot my phone in a drawer for a while this evening and when I remembered and went and checked: nothing. No calls, no texts, no nothing. I'm just here on my own, in limbo. I don't know how the fuck to make friends or connect. (Positive Voice says: I've gotta work on that.)

It's eleven and the night is over for me. It feels pathetic. The house is quiet and dark; the landlady - sorry, Not Landlady - is assembling boxes to ship to her home country in the living room downstairs. It feels lonely, and isolated, and sad. Pathetic.

This Is How Negativity Starts

That lost entry has queered everything. I don't want anything but those words back, because I don't want to have to write them again, because I can't find that exactly place in my mind and my heart and my self again. I was feeling as I was writing, and the feeling has now passed. And now what I'm left with is a house with no comfortable furniture, where I feel out of place and like a loser, I have no bed to sleep on and no comfy chair to sit in, and I don't even know where my fucking laundry detergent is so I can wash my clothes, and I don't want to go searching through boxes for it because I can't deal with all the shit I don't need that will be in those boxes and for which there is no place.


I want to throw the iPad across the room. I want to pound on it with my fists; I want to break something; I want someone or something to pay for this injustice that I have suffered. All I have are my thoughts and my writing and they get taken away in the blink of an eye and I just go haywire; I want to kill somebody. It's not fucking fair. And it's poisoned everything around me. The great weather, the gentle breeze - infuriating, because I was going to write about them next - next, after the huge chunk of text you just fucking stole from me, you fucking idiot computer. Why can't you fucking know anything, or know when not to fucking take everything from me? Now I'm just left with my pathetic reality of the floor, because when words are your currency and they're taken away so easily, you feel like a worthless piece of trash and you want white hot revenge on everyone.


God I'm so fucking furious.


Now It's Evening

I got up and I got out. I took a shower, got dressed, caught the bus and went downtown. I went to the post office and picked up my mail on hold and all it was was one lousy piece of junk mail.

I texted with Best Friend and the landlord, who was at the house packing up, but I didn't go by there. I had been thinking of picking up a few pots and maybe some plates but I let it go. 

After the post office I went to a nearby McDonalds and ate and read my book. The book was an emotional nightmare: the character kept doing things to get herself further and further in trouble, but she didn't seem to recognize it. It was infuriating and heart wrenching (in the anxiety way) at the same time.

It started to rain while I was at McDonalds, so I deliberately delayed there, and left at about 2 (I had gotten there about noon). I walked through the rain to the Metro and took it home, reading my book the whole way. 

When I got to Virginia, the rain had stopped and the sun was coming out. I waited for the bus for 20 or more minutes (could have walked home in that time)

I just hit undo. There is no redo. I lost five paragraphs of text and I was really happy with all of it and apple should go fuck themselves for ever putting the undo button of the fucking keyboard. You suck, apple,you totally suck.

It's Morning

It's morning, I'm depressed, and my back is killing me.

My plan for this weekend has fallen through, and I don't much like any of the choices I'm left with. The one thing I can't really do is what I would usually do, which is lay around on the couch and watch TV all day. But I haven't got my own couch and I don't feel comfortable laying around on the Not Landlady's couch at the moment.

Here are my erstwhile plans:
1. Take the train into the city and pick up my mail, which I put on hold during the move and first two weeks.
2. Go to a Target and buy a couple of bed top pads to lay on the floor and having a bit more of comfort than I've currently got.
3. Opposing this is to go to the bank and set up an account, although I can do that on Monday (or any day next week).

I've also just looked up FedEx, where I can go and fax information to my various financial institutions, namely to send a blank check to get money put directly into my account instead of having to worry about messing with checks (although the new bank account would take care of that as well).

Next problem: what am I going to wear? It seems moderately cool outside (my windows were open all night) but I don't even know what I've got for pants or shorts - oh wait, I remember now: my loud plaid shorts are in the bottom draw because I haven't got shelves in the closet or a bed to throw them on. Plus I've got jeans hanging in the closet (and some old old pairs in this basket I found in the back of my old closet; I don't know why they're there; did I plan to throw them out or what? My lack of organization is coming back to haunt me.

Speaking of which, I should do some wash, but I still haven't opened all my boxes, so I don't know where my detergent is (and part of me isn't sure I brought it), so I might just buy some new boxer shorts while I'm out; there's a discount store near the post office downtown; I could get some tshirts as well.

Now is when I need The Voice. Not the TV show, but the internal motivator and friend to help me get up and get through my day. "It's going to be okay," the voice will say. "Your life won't be like this forever," the voice will say. "It's going to be fine. You'll go and you'll do and you'll feel better for having done, as well as being out of the house where you can meet people and have spontaneous adventures. It'll be fine." I'm trying to listen to it as I type. I'm not very good at listening to that voice.

I'm trying to convince myself to get up and get the day started, but all I can think is that once it's begun all that will do is open up opportunities for tension and worry and awkward interactions with other people (like the housemates and Not Landlady). My current paranoia is that something is wrong with Not Landlady; she talked about how her grand kids were coming over last night, then she was going to pick them up then she had a fight with her son about going (he was supposed to go and bring back a car his brother-in-law was giving him) because he wasn't coming (she waited in the car about 20 minutes, it seemed) and then he supposedly went to get them himself. By then it was already 10 o'clock or later at night. I started to wonder if she had forgotten or gotten it wrong and was losing her memory. But she's not like that - and she's definitely not that old. I had thought she might be older, but the other woman housemate said Thursday night that she's 50, which would make her younger than Nurse Friend. I don't know if that's true, but that's what was said. So she's probably not suffering from early Alzheimer's. Especially with her job, where she seems to hold the whole thing together.

Okay. Check the weather, take a shower, get dressed, leave. That's the plan.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Pretty Good Night

Tonight was a pretty good night in my new life. It didn't turn out like I planned, but that turned out to be okay.

I had planned to get a box spring with Nurse Friend tonight. I'm still sleeping on the floor, and it's still uncomfortable. The clothes don't ever feel less like rocks. So I had asked Best Friend if she would help, but she was doing something on the night her wife has a late night (and she would normally be free), so I asked Nurse Friend and she said Thursday might work. 

When she called me at about 5 or 5:30 she sounded harried and worn out and tired. I instantly thought we should forgo it and resigned myself to let it go, although she, dedicated person that she is, kept with it. So she asked me if the piece would even be at the store I wanted to go to and I had to admit I didn't know. So while she went home and attended to some chores (she was just leaving work), I investigated as to whether what I wanted would even be there. Answer? Nope. And I checked the other stores just in case, but their prices are all just too high. 

So we ended up canceling and saying maybe on the weekend, although it sounds like she doesn't have time then, either. (Hmph. Here I was thinking that once I moved near her she'd be overjoyed and leaning on me for company, and it turns out she doesn't even need me! What a fine "how do you do" that turned out to be!)(Serves me right for being a patronizing asshole in the first place.)

I had been talking with Not Landlady for a while before she called and after we determined we weren't going out, I talked to her a bit more and then she went down to her room. I didn't have anything to do and my computer was running low on power (I had been watching videos since I got home at 5:30), so I decided to go out. Not Landlady had asked if I had eaten, so I made that an excuse to go get some fast food and explore the neighborhood while I was at it. 

So I left the house and took a route into a development that came back to back to a street coming up from the next major road. Turns out, there's a high fence running around that whole apartment complex and you can't get through. Okay, one plan down. 

So I walk all the way around the development and end up coming back out parallel to where I went in. Then I walked to the corner and followed my way around the end of the block and down to a nearby shopping center, where I went to a Popeyes and got myself something to eat. I had brought along a book to read and after sitting and texting for a little bit, I started to read my book, and it was good.

One of the people I texted was NGG. I told her I was doing what I called "The Lonelyman's Special:" reading a book alone in a fast food joint. 
"I thought that was your favorite thing," she replied.
"Which part?" I said.
"Being alone," she said.
What?? That made me sit back. Since when is being alone my "favorite thing???"

But as I considered it, I had to realize that I wasn't feeling bad in that moment. I was on a mini-adventure; I had come to an unknown place by myself; something new could happen in any moment; I had yummy fried food in front of me and this book could turn out to be really good, too. So all in all, I was okay alone.

I guess I was kind of annoyed because I feel like there's a tone of accusation in these things she says; the undertone being: "You'd rather be alone than hang out with me" or "I can't live like that; I struggle with being alone (and you obviously don't know anything about that)." But to be honest it's text, and I can't hear any tone and don't know what's behind it. 

The book turned out to be very engaging and I only got a little ways in. Then I left and walked home, stopping in the Asian grocery store to have a quick look around (it was closing, as I though it might be; it was 9:30). I walked the rest of the way home and found Not Landlady and the other woman who lives here sitting together visiting in the kitchen. We then had a spirited discussion - mostly about Not Landlady and her various loves - and it was enjoyable. Then I was tired and came up to bed. 

I still need to fix my finances. I don't think I'm going to be able to take the trip I wanted to this weekend because my brother's car is damaged and he needs to fix it (and it was probably my fault; apparent the front bumper is hanging off and I know at least once I got it caught on the sidewalk in front of the new place. I probably ripped it then. I could offer to pay for it, only I already owe him $3,000 and I don't have anything to pay him with, so...

Okay, tired now.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Morning Three

Not feeling so refreshed this morning (but I'm okay). I have a quarter-sized bruise on my right side and I wonder if it's from sleeping on something hard. My back is a bit sore; VT Friend said sleeping on the floor would do wonders for my back, but I think I'm doing it wrong. I'm sleeping on my side and curling up a bit and I expect that's not doing the job.

I'm going to ask Nurse Friend if she'd be up for going to the store tonight or in the next two nights; I'm more than ready to get this over with. I think I told you that it turns out a box spring is going to cost me $140-$200, which I was not expecting and haven't budgeted for. This makes it all the more imperative that I request money from one of my accounts before the end of the week (shit! Does it have to be that soon??); the money usually takes a week or so to get here.

Oh, wait! I had forgotten; I have a few checks in my possession, and coming to me, that add up to two hundred-some dollars. I had meant to use them for taxes next month, but perhaps they will offset this. I should also talk to Nurse Friend about being me check casher until I get a bank account set up. I should probably do that in the next two days, if I'm being responsible. 

I keeping having a weird phenomenon with the temperature in this house. When I wake up I'm always a bit cold, and especially when I get into and out of the shower. Then I dress like it's a bit cool outside, but it isn't, and then I'm dressed too warmly. Stupid. I'll have to learn.

I need to go through my boxes tonight; I've got a pile of clothes and I'm running out of clean things and I need to wash some things, only I don't know where my detergent is. I'm pretty sure I brought some; I hope I don't have to go buy another one (because my impulse would be to go to the closest place, 7-11, and there it would be an arm and a leg)(Although if I went there I could buy soda)(which I don't need).

I'm thinking I should prepare to leave. I ended up walking to work yesterday because I went out at 8 o'clock and the bus doesn't come until almost half past. So I thought I'd walk to the next stop along, only once I got going, it didn't make sense to stand still for ten-twenty minutes, so I kept going and pretty soon I was practically at work. Took me about 30 minutes, walking semi-swiftly.

Problem was, I was sweaty from having exerted myself, 'cause I was wearing jeans and it was a bit humid out (even if it was in the 70s). That luckily went away semi-quickly at work (I was dreading it, since the office is no longer cool) and I pretty much forgot about it.

Okay, now I need to go. Brush teeth and out the door.

Tuesday, September 09, 2014

Day Three: Back on the Floor

I'm here on the floor again. I called it "Day Three" because I'm counting Sunday; I suppose it's rightly "night three" that I'm sleeping on the floor.

I thought the situation would be dealt with tomorrow evening but it seems that's not the case (unless I ask Nurse Friend); Best Friend has other things she needs to do. Also? Box springs are fucking expensive; more money I don't have to spend.

Speaking financially, my plan was this: I was going to withdraw another $1,000 from a stock account, paying $500 to my student loan, $300 to Best Friend, and $200 to my tax bill next month (which reminds me; I need to do this month's yet). Now the only problem is withdrawing it and having it sent to me, which may require some acrobatics. I need to call and change all my financial information anyway.

I spent tonight learning Not Landlady's life story. I thought she was Latin; turns of she's Filipino. She has two kids (one of whom lives in the basement with her) and she had four brothers and a sister. The sister has died; she was the oldest of the group; Not Landlady is the youngest. One brother died of cancer recently and another one lives somewhere near here. 

She told me about boyfriends and her husband and it is a long and fascinating story but I'm tired right now and am thinking of going to sleep. I was getting sleepy listening to her earlier, and my eyes feel tired now. I feel like I could roll over and go to sleep and so that's what I'm considering doing. I'm not good at that, but I think I might try. The one thing I've got to do is set my alarm first.

Morning of Day Two

Slept on the floor again. Not very comfortable, but I slept most of the night through. It's only at the end that you start to notice. 

I've become kind of instantly comfortable here - or at least used to it, or resigned to it. I don't think about it any more and now I'm focused on what I'm going to do - go to the hardware box store and investigate more storage, look into my choices of grocery stores, see what all I can walk to comfortably. 

I'm also thinking about how to manage my finances for the rest of the month and then how I'm going away the next three weekends (hopefully). This coming weekend and the third weekend might not happen; the second one has a flight attached; I'm not missing that. 

I'm ready to spend money I don't have - renting cars, buying food and clothes, going places; but I've got to figure out my current financial situation first - figure out how to deal with my student loan, primarily - before I can do anything. I can't let that deadline go by or I'm royally fucked.