Okay, well, I'm covered with sweat, and I probably stink, but my nose won't stop bleeding.
Dignity. Ding dang dignity.
Currently, I'm engaged in telephonic pleas with a battalion of creditors, but that's only because i have a superb view of the 6:50 PM sun, and it's making anything possible.
This hold music is atrocious. "The Lady in Red (Has Destroyed Everything Worth Saving)." Oh, and now we're on a new song that whose similarity to its predecessor is ridiculous. Perhaps it's entitled "This Lady Instead."
So, we're moving to Vermont, for sure, but I won't go without some kind of reliable vocation in place. As such, my hamfisted navigation of assorted associated brambles continues apace, lurchily and clunkily toward a vague destination.
Now here's the earlier half of this post, from when I was feeling distinctly hopeless earlier today.
Is this postworthy? Or even noteworthy?
I'm so desperately without funds that I've spent all of my piggy-bank change, and now it's time to grovel to people the have no involvement whatsoever in pricesetting the necessary commodities that I will soon have no choice but to forgo. I've got 24 hours to pay a gigantor cellphone (self-own) bill for a company that "appears" ethical in order to obscure its imposture for such suckers as me; my electricity company, also having hiked rates recently, is threatening to discontinue service at some point in the next week. The blatant moronity of mortgaging haunts me at least hourly―it's taken the company (whom I shall refrain from defaming, for now) that I've entrusted to refinance my family's house OVER SIX WEEKS to close. Which is fine, but only in the way that a constant fear of falling objects would be fine. I'm having such a wonderful time with my family lately that I can pretend, convincingly, that we are not delving headlong into a most-precarious present. I am doing everything possible that I can do to avoid it, and it is probable that there's teensy throng of people judging me, but there always is; the primary difference is that I'm far too scrambling and occupied to enact any front of it not messing with my feelings.
I'll try to write more soon, and perhaps with greater optimism.
Dignity. Ding dang dignity.
Currently, I'm engaged in telephonic pleas with a battalion of creditors, but that's only because i have a superb view of the 6:50 PM sun, and it's making anything possible.
This hold music is atrocious. "The Lady in Red (Has Destroyed Everything Worth Saving)." Oh, and now we're on a new song that whose similarity to its predecessor is ridiculous. Perhaps it's entitled "This Lady Instead."
So, we're moving to Vermont, for sure, but I won't go without some kind of reliable vocation in place. As such, my hamfisted navigation of assorted associated brambles continues apace, lurchily and clunkily toward a vague destination.
Now here's the earlier half of this post, from when I was feeling distinctly hopeless earlier today.
Is this postworthy? Or even noteworthy?
I'm so desperately without funds that I've spent all of my piggy-bank change, and now it's time to grovel to people the have no involvement whatsoever in pricesetting the necessary commodities that I will soon have no choice but to forgo. I've got 24 hours to pay a gigantor cellphone (self-own) bill for a company that "appears" ethical in order to obscure its imposture for such suckers as me; my electricity company, also having hiked rates recently, is threatening to discontinue service at some point in the next week. The blatant moronity of mortgaging haunts me at least hourly―it's taken the company (whom I shall refrain from defaming, for now) that I've entrusted to refinance my family's house OVER SIX WEEKS to close. Which is fine, but only in the way that a constant fear of falling objects would be fine. I'm having such a wonderful time with my family lately that I can pretend, convincingly, that we are not delving headlong into a most-precarious present. I am doing everything possible that I can do to avoid it, and it is probable that there's teensy throng of people judging me, but there always is; the primary difference is that I'm far too scrambling and occupied to enact any front of it not messing with my feelings.
I'll try to write more soon, and perhaps with greater optimism.
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