Although you crave a bacon cheeseburger and onion rings and a Coke from Whataburger — which is weird, because the hypothetical “you,” ie the actual ME, hates Whataburger — it turns out your stomach will stop growling and you will be able to sleep if you eat some dry shredded wheat from your pantry.
This is a variation on the “your body needs FOOD, not STEAK” theme.
In the midst of a recent personal problem, a friend said to me, “You’re going to find yourself soon, be it in a dark alley or the bottom of a bottle.”
That isn’t to say that I have a problem with alcohol. Quite the contrary, actually. I find it inefficient and overly expensive, and for those reasons and many more, I’m not much of a drinker. But the point (and it was a good one) was that the universe has decided that I don’t get to flit around like a five-year-old with ADD anymore.
I guess you could say I’ve been on the run for a long time. I was never sure what I was running from or that I was even running… I just assumed that I was bad at consistency. So what if I only graduated high school because I was forced to? So what if I had a mental breakdown and flunked out of college? So what if, excluding the Demons, my average job tenure was two months? So what if I broke leases? So what if I cut people out of my life without a second thought? So what if I ruined my credit? Life was rough and I had REASONS, that was my justification. And… you know, I guess I did have reasons, but everyone else has reasons too and not everyone else is a collossal fuckup.
This quote from the NY Times really got me: “Through it all, a lot of ordinary Americans borrowed a lot more money then they could afford to pay back, running up enormous credit card bills and borrowing against the value of their homes. Now comes the day of reckoning.”
Reckoning, you say?
It fits, for me and for America at large.
(Side note: If anyone should know the difference between “then” and “than,” it should be the NY Times)
Today I had a promising interview at a gas station.
I was wrong about going home, I think. My brother and Hitler are still going, and we are going to try Craigslist for roommates who can pay. Is this the right decision? Fuck if I know. But it’s not running.
Pawn shops smell like desperation and broken dreams. I find comfort in the grim lines on peoples’ faces there, because it means I am not alone.
I sold four sacks of books at Half Price Books. I earned $6.
I just sketched a martini glass on my notebook. Subconscious desire to get shitfaced, anyone?
Lots of drama in the house. Lots of ugliness. I don’t even want to be here anymore and it looks like that particular wish is going to come true. The details are not for public consumption and they are really boring anyway, but the short form is that I fully expect to be sleeping on my parents’ couch a week from now… Which won’t be a lot different than sleeping on my couch here, except it’s less comfortable.
Hitler is seriously watching Stand By Me on the Lifetime Movie Network right now. That isn’t a joke.
I’d been planning a jubilant “LOOK! I fixed my problems… just pulled myself up by my bootstraps and now everything is better” entry, but things didn’t exactly work out.
I decided that one of my (apparently few) marketable skills was cooking, and that I should capitalize on that. My brother and dad both work at car dealerships, and where my dad works, there is a guy who shows up every day at lunch time with a cooler full of food and drinks. He makes a decent amount of money doing that. The dealership my brother works at, and the dealerships nearby (of which there are at least five) do not have a person who delivers food, so I figured I could do that.
It seemed easy enough. Make something that is portable, easy to eat on the run… something everyone likes… and show up during lunch time to sell it. Granted, I was kind of working “around” the law a little because I don’t have a business license and the food wasn’t prepared in a commercial kitchen. But I decided to look at it as a test run — if I was able to sell the food, I had no problem with getting the license and arranging to rent/barter for the use of a church’s kitchen for food preparation.
My brother complained frequently of being hungry during the day but unable to get away from the lot for long enough to eat, and that he was tired of sandwiches all the time. And the guy who sold food at my dad’s dealership was pulling in a good chunk of money every day, over and above food costs. I figured I could do that. So I bought the ingredients to make burritos and chocolate cake, and a few 12-packs of soda, and a rolling cooler.
I would have been happy to have broken even on the first day. But I didn’t come anywhere close. I made exactly one sale, and it was to someone I knew. Car salesmen are a tough crowd.
In theory, it was a win-win proposition. If I didn’t sell anything, I could return the cooler and we’d just eat the burritos for the rest of the week instead of buying groceries. The trouble is, my grocery budget never allowed for eating burritos all week. My grocery budget consisted of ramen noodles and that frozen turkey. The money I spent on food for this venture was actually earmarked for rent, and I figured I would at least break even.
So now I have this cooler of burritos and Coke. And less rent money than I’m supposed to have.
I took a chance, and I failed.
I’m not sure it’s complete failure. The truth is that I only went to one dealership (four different buildings/departments), and got so discouraged that I turned the truck around and came home. I am not a salesperson. I listened when I was told that people don’t buy food because it’s being sold well, they buy food because it is good. But short of offering freebies (which I can’t afford to do), I have no way to prove that it’s good… And so instead of buying food from me, they looked at me like I was from fucking Mars.
In theory, I could try more of the dealerships tomorrow. In theory, instead of approaching individual people and pitching my meals, I could meet with the site GMs and leave menus and scheduled drop-off times, so that interested people could come to me instead of me having to seek them out. In theory, I could pitch this as a benefit to the managers of the dealerships — I’m bringing meals on-site so your staff gets convenient meals and you don’t have to pay anything. You can call it a perk, even!
Except that I SUCK AT SALES. I’m decent enough at the rationale and creating scripts, but I suck at delivery. Like a lot. I stutter and look at the floor and then I talk too fast and have to repeat myself.
I wonder if I can bribe Hitler into making the initial calls for me.
Gotta do something. Time is money and I’m running out of both.
I’ve been craving fall. Lately I have been waking up with the idea that it IS fall, that there are leaves on the ground and it’s cool enough to comfortably walk outside and that the Pumpkin Spice latte has returned at Starbucks. Reality returns pretty quickly, though. It’s not fall. It’s summer — in TEXAS — which means it’s hotter than hell. The holidays aren’t on the horizon. More heat is on the horizon. There is no Pumpkin Spice latte and even if there were, I couldn’t afford it because I don’t have a job. And once that realization hits, I kind of want to go back to bed.
Though the tone of this article is a bit cheeky/snarky/whatever, she pegged one point exactly: it’s like I get my superpowers back in the fall. I become good at things. My confidence comes back. I can conquer the world.
And right now, I need that feeling more than anything.
It’s nearly 10 am, and I’ve nearly been awake for an hour. I’m still wearing my pajamas, haven’t so much as considered breakfast, and quite honestly am giving serious thought to going back to sleep.
There are a million things I could do. I need to follow up on some job search things. Beyond that, I need to unload and reload my dishwasher, then hand-wash the bigger pots and pans that won’t fit. I need to change the cat litter. I need to do laundry, laundry, and more laundry. I need to sweep and mop the kitchen floor. I need to finish off my fridge-cleaning project. I need to re-organize the pantry. I need to buy groceries. I need to clean out the child’s closet. I need to clean out the hall closet. I need to sell/Freecycle some things around the house. I need to move some more items out to the garage. I need to sweep the pile of leaves out of my garage. I need to dust. And vacuum. I need to wash and vacuum the truck. I need to thoroughly clean the master bath. I need to purge the bedroom completely. I need to throw out old coupons and organize the new ones.
What’s really weird is that I have no motivation to do any of these things. Like… With no job, there is absolutely no reason in the world that I shouldn’t have a spotless house and a completed to-do list. It’s not like there’s anything ELSE to do. But I just don’t do any of it, and everything around me turns to shit. And then I am depressed about it. Waaaah.
What the hell is wrong with me? Or maybe the better question would be “what the hell is RIGHT with me?” It would be a shorter list.
I’m thinking it might be best if I just killed Hitler.
After he quit his job (…or got fired…?), he finally got paid, supposedly for just the second time since he’s been employed (and the first time was, again supposedly, just for $100). He’s jerking me around about rent money. It goes a little something like this: “Well I have a new checking account and it’s not activated yet so I can’t get the money out until Monday.”
Really? Because having opened no less than six checking accounts in my life, I have never been told that my account wasn’t “activated” yet. When I offered to go to the bank with him this morning and put them in their place (because withholding a cash deposit made on Thursday until Monday on the basis that the account isn’t “activated” is a crock of shit), he informed me that he “couldn’t go.” When I asked why, he told me to leave him alone.
We had a meeting scheduled with my landlord for this afternoon. All four of us were originally supposed to go, but my brother was excused because he was scheduled to work and Saturdays are pretty non-negotiable in the world of car dealerships. Hitler was NOT excused because he HAS NO JOB and therefore has absolutely zero commitments that trump SECURING A PLACE TO LIVE.
Except that once it became time to go, Hitler suddenly couldn’t go. He had a “meeting” at some other gym, which was supposed to involve him filling out paperwork and setting up a corporate deal. And, you know, that could take all day… so really, he wasn’t going to be available any time today. And tomorrow? Well, he couldn’t possibly meet tomorrow because he had to work at ANOTHER gym (at which he has not actually been hired, to the best of my knowledge) tomorrow from 12-6 (knowing full well that my landlord has church in the morning and evening).
As if that wasn’t bullshitty enough, he finally left here at 3:18 for his 3:00 meeting… wearing workout clothes, including a cut-up tee shirt emblazoned with the name of his high school in another state. Because obviously, the HR director for Chase bank is going to set up a corporate account on a Saturday afternoon with a salesman dressed like a high schooler going to football practice. Right.
So he’s jerking me around on rent money, ducking out of a mandatory meeting with the landlord, and telling lies that are stupidly, blatantly transparent. The man just generally doesn’t like him, because he is loud, obnoxious, has no regard for anyone but himself, doesn’t clean up after himself, etc. At this point in time, Hitler has become FAR too much of a problem in my life, and I have run out of excuses for him.
PS: I am going nuts because there are GOOD DEALS to be had at CVS this week.
For instance:
Pringles – 2/$2 – Earns 1 ECB with purchase of 2 cans
Dawn dish soap – 2/$2 – Earns 1 ECB with purchase of 2 cans
Febreze products – Buy $10 of participating items, get 5 ECBs back
CVS brand pantiliners – $0.99 – Earns $0.99 ECB
Playtex tampons – $4.99 – Earns 3 ECBs
Olay skincare – Spend $20, Get 10 ECBs
With nearly all of these promotions, you can use coupons from last week’s ad insert. This is particularly awesome on the Febreze & Olay deals, because the value of the coupon counts towards the amount you need to spend to get the ECB. Plus, CVS sent me a $5 off a $30 purchase coupon via email. And I can’t use it.
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
I accidentally made something fabulous last night when the man indulged in his bit of selfishness by taking the child out to dinner and saying something along the lines of “I don’t care if you fucking starve” to me.
This is probably not something I would make again intentionally, because if one were to buy the ingredients, it wouldn’t be cheap. But if one happens to have these items in one’s house, and one has not even a dollar with which to buy groceries, it’s a good bet.
I made a box of Zatarain’s spanish rice in the microwave, but instead of using the canned tomatoes (didn’t have any) called for on the package, I used an equivalent amount of Old El Paso enchilada sauce that’s been in my pantry for about eight months. That made the rice very spicy, so I cooled it down by stirring in two slices of Monterey Jack cheese from my brother’s lunch stash and around 1/4 cup of leftover sour cream. Amazing all by itself, but even more so served on tortillas with shredded baked chicken and fire sauce from my Taco Bell stash.
I am actually willing to bet it was better than whatever lame-ass buffet he went to. (Fun fact: I loathe buffets)
Tonight i am probably going to make stir-fry with shredded chicken from some leg quarters that have been in my freezer longer than is typically advised. I’ve got stir-fry veggies and jasmine rice. I have a turkey to make on Friday… which will hopefully last through the weekend… and then my freezer will be empty.
More stupid grocery drama in the house. My brother was supposed to chip in this week, but didn’t get paid yesterday because the paperwork for the cars he sold last week was delayed due to 4th of July laziness on the part of the desk guys at his dealership. He’ll get a big check, but it won’t be until next week. Hitler is set to get paid today or tomorrow, but will be extremely stingy with his money because he quit his fucking job. He has another one lined up but won’t even start for a couple of weeks. (Fun fact: I have never quit a job without having another one already lined up. I don’t understand why he thinks it’s okay to do that.)
And, of course, the man would rather go out to eat by himself (or with the child, when she’s here) than “support the entire fucking house.” So he won’t be pitching in for groceries either.
And here I am complaining about the people who won’t be buying groceries, when I will also not be buying groceries because I STILL DON’T HAVE A JOB. And YES, I HAVE APPLIED AT THE GROCERY STORE AND THE MOVIE THEATRE AND STARBUCKS AND ALL THE OTHER FUCKING PLACES PEOPLE KEEP TELLING ME TO APPLY AT. If my parents weren’t trying to move here, I would most certainly pack my shit up and go back to Missouri so I could sleep on my mother’s couch like the fucking unemployed loser I am.
I hate not having a job. I have never not had a job. I have been UNDERemployed, but never UNemployed for any real length of time whatsoever. Until now. It is driving me crazy. The man is driving me crazy, my life is driving me crazy, and I hate it, as fucking emo as that sounds.
I really don’t know how to fix this. I have a fairly good idea of what I want — a steady job with a small, affordable apartment and a car that can be bought outright instead of financed. I don’t think I’m asking for the moon and stars here… I just want to be able to live. I want to be able to live within my means (which requires having means to live within). I want to be able to wake up in the morning and not have to wash a glass so I can get a drink of water. I want to make it through a day without relationship drama, and if that means forgoing the relationship, then so be it. I want my stomach to stop churning and my head to stop hurting and really, I would really like to just do whatever *I* feel like doing sometimes.
What is it that *I* would like to do? Well, I’d like to sleep in a bed. And I’d like to fall asleep to tv or a movie, because I like doing that. I’d like to go to the bookstore and find a comfortable chair to spend an evening in. I’d like to start attending church. Not Jesus church, mind you, but still… I’d like to make a batch of no-bake cookies. I’d like to go to “Late Night At The Museum.” I’d like to have some modicum of control over my own life.
