Broke, busted, disgusted

Those are The Mamas & the Papas’ lyrics, for you youngins. But also describe my state of mind lately, as I’m sure many have noticed from the tone of my blog and FB posts.

Things have reached a critical state for us financially, and as everyone knows, money troubles = no fun. I’ve signed up with a site for freelance work and am hoping I’ll get something off of there to make some “extra” money as they say – though if you need it to pay your bills and feed your family, that’s not really “extra,” is it? A dear, dear friend came over and dropped off a shitton of food for us a bit ago, which was much appreciated and we are eating our way through all of that. Another friend contacted me earlier in the week and asked if she could give me some “freezer meals” for my family, so I am meeting her on Tuesday. I am not above accepting charity. If my Mom had been a little better about accepting charity and seeking out free food when we were on welfare, we would have had a lot more meals and more continuous utility service, I imagine. It’s possible to accept kind gestures from others and still be proud, though I am humbled by the kindnesses to be sure.

One downside of all this belt-tightening is all the beans we have been eating. I know most people have problems digesting beans, and for people like me who have had their entire lower GI tract removed, it’s even more problematic when you eat beans every day. And yet here is my can of lentil soup on my desk, today’s lunch. One must persevere.

Another downside is that when almost all of your friends are performers or otherwise involved in the theater, you have to skip most of their shows because you don’t have the money for tickets. Or gas to drive to wherever their show is running, as you have to conserve it for going to work and back. Or time to go to the show, because you have to stay home and cook more beans and rice and make bread from scratch or make more spaghetti casserole and other things that make for cheap eating. I feel like changing my FB banner to “I really want to come see your show, but I can’t. Break a leg.” That way anyone who visits my page will know the message is for them.

The weather isn’t helping much. This is the time of year when most Clevelanders have just about had ENOUGH of all the fucking snow and ice, thank you very much. We’re tough, sure, but it gets to be extremely dreary with the gray skies all day long and never seeing the sun – and when you never go out for lunch, you don’t even get exposed to whatever dim light is hiding behind the clouds, which makes seasonal affective disorder even worse. Mornings like today, you just try not to break your ass skittering across the streets and making your way to your building.

And the kid’s sleep is very rocky. He’s pretty much stopped the 3am waking, but now claims to not be tired at all when it’s bedtime, and is up for at least an hour or two after bedtime, in his room “reading” books in the dark, flailing around in his bed, talking, etc. Then he gets up at like 4:30 and insists he is done sleeping. And of course is a whiny fucking nightmare because of the lack of sleep, as are we all. I plan to let him stay up tonight until he literally falls asleep doing whatever he is doing, I don’t care if it’s fucking midnight.

I am still editing my book. I hope to be done with that by end of next month, and then I can start sending it out to publishers who aren’t interested in publishing it.

I called the Cleveland Clinic this week to try to arrange payments for my mounting medical bills there. The phone chick was like, oh, well we can only do maybe a 6 month time period for your bill. BECAUSE THE CLEVELAND CLINIC WOULD GO BROKE IF I DON’T SEND THEM $84 A MONTH, RIGHT? IF IT WERE ONLY 20, THEY WOULD SURELY GO UNDER. Without my $84, how ever will they meet their operating costs? I was too tired to argue. Because that’s what I am. Tired.

Am really hoping next week brings a bright spot in some fashion, even if it’s just 5 minutes of sunshine or finding a $5 in an old purse.


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