She Made It

I should write this thing for the guy, but my heart hurts a bit and I feel weird and tired – exhausted, really – and I just need this place.  I need it with the whole of my being.  Just to dump the overflow so I don’t drown in my own ennui.

I have a car.  It’s a Ford.  I don’t know how, but I do.  It feels very weird to not be able to hand over the full amount (they’re fine with me bringing in a check for the rest – and the reason for that is only that I, like a dippy-doo, just brought my debit card which wouldn’t run 4000, thankfully) and then just to drive off, with assurances.  Like, you’re good people, just bring the money in later.  That’s bizarre.  All this after spending 3 hours there while your father co-signs the loan and it still, even with his sterling credit, won’t go through.  And somehow, they’re working it out where someone will loan me the dough and I can just have this very nice car that I don’t…I mean, I need one, and it’s super nice, but none of this was my vision.  And realizing that the he past year of working for a non-non-profit has messed with my credit and it is very surreal to have that come-to-Jesus moment where you can’t get a car.  It’s very disheartening and I’m realizing, I have to do some repair work here and I’m just thrown as to what that means.

So, yeah, I ended up crying a lot today.  Stress from work and stress from someone important being incommunicado and stress from not eating and stress from thinking I don’t drink enough water and stress from the awfulness of my hair and just…I sat in the chair next to my mother’s puzzle and ate a cheese stick and felt raw and volatile and confused.  On some level, that is really appealing, just to venerate the WTF is my life these days feeling of disillusionment.   To have people poking their heads through the bushes to check on me and all that I am enduring.  But I can do this.  I can straighten up and fly right.

Okay.  The pity party is not essential.  Not long-term.  I am glad to not have to mess with another wonky Lyft driver or bleed funds for the privilege of getting mine arse to work.  I can’t control a whit of when or how someone chooses to check in.  I can only do what I can do.

I’ve downloaded YNAB.  I’ve got myself set-up.  I am ready to do this. To get my house back in order.  Here, there, and everywhere.

I am going to drink some more water, do all the evening requirements and then just breathe.  I can’t sit with this worry on me a moment longer especially now that I’ll have money in and be able to do this just as is necessary.  I will be able to get to where I want and need to be.

Okay, that is not a wildly exciting post.

 

 

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