The next 50 years

I was combing wool and feeling that constant sense of guilt and shame that I'm not doing something the world values and realized, everything I ever do is like that. Because it's not at the behest of someone with money who will remit same, it all seems like play, irrelevant, unnecessary time wasting.   Which is how I feel as a being. Irrelevant, unnecessary, a burden and a waste of time.  Huh. I always feel like there's going to be a day when I will put be put on the hot seat and have to defend myself.  Because of course it's happened so often already. Because the people administering my support are so begrudging and skimpy about it. Because I'm walking around carrying a load of anxiety.  Anxiety about money. Anxiety about my inflammed sutures. Anxiety about my diet. Anxiety about if Timmy is dying.  He coughs a lot, many times a day. well, back to wool gathering. I don't see much value in continuing to list anxieties, there's more, but listing them makes it...

 Having a major fury today over realizing just how awful things actually went last weekend. I went to a neighborhood house for an "art gallery showing." The invite came from an old acquaintance from way back. She was always pretty hard to take, very controlling and righteous and opinionated, but I didn't understand how bad it was and thought, hey, she was young, she's matured, I've matured.  Let's start anew. Well I arrived at the house and was warmly welcomed and overwhelmed right away.  Like floating on a sea of inputs trying to sift out what matters.  Tea? Cookies? Look at this, talk to that person, say something nice.  Well we sit down and she starts peppering me with questions after assuring me that everyone in the room already knows ALL about me. red flag. Must remember that. If they've told everyone in the room, say "well, I guess we're done here then, there's no need for me to actually be here!" and flee post haste and never look ...

I remembered I was going to try calling around for someone who would be able to help me get the max to which I'm entitled, which should be about another $250. Which might be enough in my frugal hands. Probably not.... Well anyway, I've decided if I am not financed to eat then eating is a luxury and I will stop.  Probably just go scrounging and wait for winter.  Anyway, maybe something else will happen. Thing is, this paltry sum on which I'm required to live is expected to be my permanent situation.   Well anyway, the worker at the charity knows my worker well. Seems she's got a reputation. I stopped her before she gave any specifics or got too candid, saying "let's just say my suspicions aren't unreasonable." and at one point "I wouldn't want her to get any extra sadistic jollies" and she chuckled.  Essentially, without incriminating her or me, we communicated that yep, Carol is a bitch bitch bitch of the bitchiest sort. A martinet with a...

I really do feel like a miserable piece of shit. Timmy started that godawfull pushy squeaking again like he does every meal time. We have been fighting since I moved back into the house and took over feeding.  He sees me start and wants to run down and push on the back of my legs squeaking and whining to hurry up. For ten years Dan's been allowing this. But it's infuriating to the extreme. I've tried so many approaches including sitting there next to him doing nothing every time he starts up.  Nothing works and I'm so agitated I get red fury. This morning I just rounded on him shouting, grabbed him by his skin, flipped him upside and shouted at him. Terrorized him. The rest of the morning he's been acting proper scared and i've just wanted to throw him through a window.  So of course I hate myself. I'm spending the morning wondering how I'm going to deal when the food runs out.  Do I get a marker and scribble "euthanize me" on  a tee and go spe...

Yeah, so it turns out I'm expected to survive on $1164 a month.  My housing alone is $670/mth.  My utils are another $330.  Sooooooo, then there's the stuff I'm not supposed to have because poor people don't deserve it, like internet, telephone, car insurance, my flickr account. Yeah, that and of course the credit card debt which has to be paid. Also too damn bad for me. So what little they offer for food, which appears to be around $400/mth, has to be split in half to cover these "luxuries."  So I have $50/wk for food, clothing, misc like banking fees, fuel for the car or bus fare or parking, or anything that might possible need repair or replacement. There seems to be zero facility for paying a plumber either, so that's not going to be fixed ever either. This is so hard to accept. It's like "put up with abusive people or die of gradual starvation." This world is such a cruel place.  I really hate living.  This isn't helping. But for now...