And the gnashing of teeth

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It’s a real gn sort of day.  Everything feels like it has this GN sound at the front of it.  GNUUUUUGH.

I don’t want to commemorate it.  I want to forget it. I want to be free of the memory and safe in the fact that I am safe and home and in the darkness I know and trust.

But here we are, gnawing at this bone of shame.  So I’ve put on Beautiful Midnight and am getting ready to excavate this hard place I was not expecting to go.  GNAR.

So my car got impounded this morning and while that is important, what is most important is that for a brief, bowel-liquifying moment, I was sure it had been stolen.  I had no idea why it would be, only that it was not in the spot we’d left it last night.  It was the most surreal instance I can remember in a year of surreal living.  It had to be there, but it wasn’t.

So after calling the police, I learned that it wasn’t stolen.  Just absconded by people who apparently have the right to abscond it whenever they feel they care to.  So I have called the impound lot a few miles away and my sister went with me and we walked down the dark corridors of the sketchy but entirely toward sort of office rathole where they keep cars that have been towed away from home and paid my excessive and debilitating fee and went to work in the middle of the day.

Now, having paid that bill, I am not entirely sure how I am going to get everything handled through the end of the month, including keeping myself fed.  It’s just a charming sequence of events I didn’t need.  I just feel like Queen of the doormats and the run-down, stepped-on, shit-eating idiots.

I have to remember that as awful as it was…I still got through it.  I am not disintegrated.  I am alive.

I am glad the work venue changes tomorrow.  I am glad that I am not going to starve even if things get really tough and I have to go and siphon food from the parents.  I am glad that everyone’s kind about it. I’m glad that I have people who want to know why I am upset.  I am glad that I can just say I am upset in front of them.

In other news, I am less glad about dudes who do not get it.  I am working at being better at making them get it.  It being the fact I do not want to talk to anyone who addresses me with wat sup? I don’t.  I have a boundary and that’s what’s written on it.

Also, n.b., waiting for something to appear out of the blue, to arrive when it is least expected, is still waiting.  It’s still hoping.  It’s still training your mind to look for signals, it’s still taking up room in your head.

You are still taking up space in my head.  You oughta pay rent.






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