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Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Honestly, this one's just for me.

This isn't for anyone to read. It's not funny, it's not thought provoking, it's just a middle age woman losing it. I am angry. As angry as I've even been in my life. I have always been someone who just gives things away. Some guy shows up with a sob story on how he's going to be thrown out because he can't pay his rent and I've been right there with the checkbook. And it occurs to me now that if the people who owe me money, the people who boo hoo'd their way into my bank account would cough up HALF of what they own me I would not be such a whiney sack of nothing right now.

So, now the bank is coming for the car. You freaking rat bastards who are driving your cars because you can't pay me the money I came up with for you can just kiss my backside. I'm TIRED of being the one who always needs the hugs, I want to give them.

The good will of my friends must be strained to the limit by now and why not?

How does a person get to this age, smack dab in my mid-fifties, and be in worse shape then they were when they were 17? You spend your life trying to do for other people. You help them out, you give up your life for them. Seriously. I mean, how many years did I have what amounted to the sole care and feeding of my mother? My mother who couldn't function without someone in her life and when my father took off I ended up with 100% of the bill? But I did it, because I thought it was the right thing to do, and because I really believed that eventually, something would happen and I'd be able to live for me.

Then, we take on the double...a husband. And the kids. So here we are, dealing with parents and being parents. Wives, mothers, daughters, employees, housekeepers, bookkeepers, you name it. And then people wonder, why are we tired, cranky, weepy, depressed and angry?

I admit, my life is a train wreck the last few years. Some of it comes from trying to please everyone, take care of everyone. I've got three people dangling the carrot of redemption in front of me with schemes, plans, offers, everything's coming up roses, just hang in a little longer.

And here I sit, like an irresponsible teen-ager, with a rat bastard bank refusing to make any arrangements with us and coming to pick up the only car this week-end, thankyouverymuch.

Thank you blond lady who paid how many month's rent on our nickel and has been PROMISING to pay SOMETHING back since January 14?

Thank you, you lumbering wanna be screenwriter who squeezed my LAST available cash out of me with a sob story about imminent eviction only to come by six months later in a brand new, fully paid for car that his MOTHER bought and paid for? Dude, you're older than I am. You're NOT going to break into the 'business' now. Grow up.

But then, I chose to marry an artist, I blame myself a lot. An artist pleases themselves. Their spouses work any stinking job they can get because the artist is, well, an artist.

And maybe there's art in your soul too, not that you'll ever be able to put it on a canvass. You've been too busy working 40 hours a week and doing the dishes and cooking dinner and making sure the kids are out on time and getting good grades and, in short, being everything they can be instead of what you ended up being and now you can't even get in the damn car and drive 45 minutes up the coast and taste the salt air coming off the ocean.

I've lived without gas for heat or hot water in the winter, cooking everything on a hot plate, crock pot and an electric skillet. I've been without power. My home was sold out from under me. I've got a lawyer who says "don't worry" and then forgets to do whatever lawyer thing he was going to do, but he works pro-bono for us so we just sort of put up with whatever gets, or does not get done.

I jump every time I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. I panic when the phone rings, when someone walks down a street behind me. This is my life now, 24/7.

And finally, I've just run out of steam .

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