I’m ashamed that this is my first post of 2012! And I’m even more ashamed that this might be the shortest post ever. I’ve just swallowed two Benadryl and a half-bottle of cheap gas station wine, so God knows how much longer I’ll be awake.
I went to a party last night, and, drunk on tequila and without a ride/too proud to ask for one, I decided it would be a good idea to walk home more than ten miles at midnight. I got home around two hours later, thanks to a guy in a multi-coloured ice cream truck who gave me a ride part of the way. At one point, I decided it would be a good idea to take off my shoes, and run barefoot along the street (the things tequiala makes me do!). While I was still wearing the shoes, I must have stepped on some kind of plant or foliage, the residue of which remained on the shoes. Since I had to carry the shoes while I running Zola Bud-like through the streets, I imagine that this residue must have got on my hands, and that I then touched my eyes, and face. By the time I got home my eyes were swollen so much that I could barely see out of the right one. I got a bit of a shock when I looked in a mirror because I had no idea how bad I looked. The swelling has gone down, but I can’t leave the house today lest I scare young children. It looks like I’ve developed elephantiasis of the eyelids.
Besides being temporarily deformed, what else is up with me, you are perhaps wondering? Still working at the same customer service job, but I got a promotion and will soon be earning $42,500! This might not be much for some of you, but it is the most I have ever made in my entire adult life, so I am pleased. It goes without saying that the extra money will come in handy. I may work for corporate America, but I like the company I work for, as they treat me well and seem to appreciate me. This is rare in any job, so I feel that I’ve been incredibly lucky.
MM is also now working for the same company, but he’s a temporary contractor, which is how I started off there (so hopefully he will get hired on as a regular employee too, with benefits and a pay raise). His days as a barista are now (thank fuck!) behind him. This is good for obvious financial reasons, but it also helps me respect him more because there comes a point in the life of a thirty-something artist when you need to aspire to something more than making lattes. If your art career is taking off on the side, then working in a café would be fine, but if it’s not….then, well, you need to come up with a Plan B. It took MM a loooooong time to accept the fact that he needed a Plan B but he got there in the end.
Now we are both “adults” with “proper” jobs….whatever that means. We’re actually thinking about buying a house in an area about eleven miles east of downtown where we would be able to get (hopefully!) a USDA loan. If we did, we could buy a 2000 sq feet house with zero down payment! Home ownership would obviously tie me down here even more, which is a scary thought, but I’m tired of throwing away money to asshole landlords who don’t fix shit. And it is very stressful living in rental accommodation with ten pets since you have to lie about the existence of nearly all of them.
Creatively, things could be better. I don’t really write anymore. I keep on meaning to create my own website where I would write about more serious issues (not just “woe is me” personal stuff) but I never seem to get around to it. I *am*, however, in a music project with a guy who really forces me to get things done. If it was up to me I would get nothing done because I’d procrastinate. Hopefully we should be playing out soon.
Things are definitely looking up although I am still involved, from time to time, in the sex industry without MM’s knowledge. This doesn’t make me feel good about myself at all, but I have so much debt, and I just cannot make ends meet. Once 2012 is over, I will have paid off nearly everything, and will be able to relax a little. To be honest, the main reason I don’t update this blog more often is perhaps that I am uncomfortable writing about this topic. I am not plagued with guilt about what I do because, well, I try not to give it much thought. However, if I were to come on here and start writing about it, I would have to analyze my life more and I am very happy NOT doing that, thank you very much.