Shit, well, I feel virtuous. The utmost, uppermost, most foreboding part of my to-do list has been checked.
Check yoself, shit.
I was avoiding it; I was paralyzed by it; I was able to read 600 page novels and write music and do 100 hours worth of admin work and make business plans but I was not able to DEAL with this shit, really. I mean it was really a horrible experience, the car thing. Like really sad and horrible and disappointing and cruel and unfair and in hindsight quite dangerous, and so it left me paralyzed both figuratively and literally, as I needed to be carted around everywhere, dependent, which feeling, if anyone knows me at all, should know really not make for a happy camper. And it was adorned with other little unfathomabilities- phone breaking (which co-morbidity REALLY leads to paralysis), tooth breaking, and my own, willful adornment of pill-induced foghead and following withdrawal.
And there's all this stuff going on.
And so much noise.
And so now I've gone ahead and gotten my iPhone upgrade (yippee, more beeping) and towed my poor Blue from the collision place and diddled around a bit to find places that would purchase him til I found one that offered a satisfactory sum and no hassle, only to find myself today truly HASSLED, HARASSED and HARANGUED by these various gila monsters who are now interested in purchasing him for a measlier sum, and won't stop calling, even after I tell them no, and deliberately confuse me by ambiguously identifying themselves. WTF is wrong with these people??? These used-carfolk??? When I first tried to buy a used car they did the same shit they just kept right the fuck on calling. Both ends of the equation ultimate in hassle, in coked-up, geeked-up, gila monster hassle, blowing up my phone. Calling AND texting and then calling again.
F.
But the nice people are coming to pick up Blue and pay me tomorrow. And the pretty old car I was generously offered as long as I fix her up proper is sitting in the driveway, 100 meters from the shop, ready to be carted over there and fixed.
So this productive week, during which I ran and made phonecalls and cleaned and went to auditions and did some work and paid off some shit and didn't avoid everything, was good, good yes good. And I'm surely climbing out of the hole.
Next- work, next- DENTISTS and DOCTORS.
Dentists and doctors aren't a pain in the ass I don't have any antipathy toward them at all in fact I like them usually but the cost is murder when you don't have insurance and need like two surgical procedures done on your molars.
And work is fun.
I've been listening to Amy Winehouse lately. Man is she good. Rest in Peace, Angelgirl.
Check yoself, shit.
I was avoiding it; I was paralyzed by it; I was able to read 600 page novels and write music and do 100 hours worth of admin work and make business plans but I was not able to DEAL with this shit, really. I mean it was really a horrible experience, the car thing. Like really sad and horrible and disappointing and cruel and unfair and in hindsight quite dangerous, and so it left me paralyzed both figuratively and literally, as I needed to be carted around everywhere, dependent, which feeling, if anyone knows me at all, should know really not make for a happy camper. And it was adorned with other little unfathomabilities- phone breaking (which co-morbidity REALLY leads to paralysis), tooth breaking, and my own, willful adornment of pill-induced foghead and following withdrawal.
And there's all this stuff going on.
And so much noise.
And so now I've gone ahead and gotten my iPhone upgrade (yippee, more beeping) and towed my poor Blue from the collision place and diddled around a bit to find places that would purchase him til I found one that offered a satisfactory sum and no hassle, only to find myself today truly HASSLED, HARASSED and HARANGUED by these various gila monsters who are now interested in purchasing him for a measlier sum, and won't stop calling, even after I tell them no, and deliberately confuse me by ambiguously identifying themselves. WTF is wrong with these people??? These used-carfolk??? When I first tried to buy a used car they did the same shit they just kept right the fuck on calling. Both ends of the equation ultimate in hassle, in coked-up, geeked-up, gila monster hassle, blowing up my phone. Calling AND texting and then calling again.
F.
But the nice people are coming to pick up Blue and pay me tomorrow. And the pretty old car I was generously offered as long as I fix her up proper is sitting in the driveway, 100 meters from the shop, ready to be carted over there and fixed.
So this productive week, during which I ran and made phonecalls and cleaned and went to auditions and did some work and paid off some shit and didn't avoid everything, was good, good yes good. And I'm surely climbing out of the hole.
Next- work, next- DENTISTS and DOCTORS.
Dentists and doctors aren't a pain in the ass I don't have any antipathy toward them at all in fact I like them usually but the cost is murder when you don't have insurance and need like two surgical procedures done on your molars.
And work is fun.
I've been listening to Amy Winehouse lately. Man is she good. Rest in Peace, Angelgirl.
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