“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

So I’ve been working on this painting job to pay off my bills right? Well I did two killer days back-to-back 9the 6th and 7th) to get it finished in time to get the check and take Mom out for dinner on her birthday on the 8th.

Groovy, right? Yeah, I thought so too, till the 8th when I found out Mom’s birthday was on the 7th.

Fuck.

Then it turns out that my little sister, who happens to be back out at Mom’s till she goes back to college, didn’t stick around the house that day and my brother didn’t go out there either.

Double fuck.

So let’s review. I break my ass to get enough money to do something for Mom’s birthday, unknowingly ON Mom’s birthday, and because of my problem with reality I wasn’t able to herd my other siblings out there. Yeah, that’s about par for the course.

So now I’ve got to do something extra cool for Mom’s birthday, I’ve still got a pile of bills to pay, still got to get that part for the fuel gage on the car, AND try to hold on to enough to drive to Columbus in the near future. I’m not going to go into it right here, right now, but the Columbus trip is important.

Can I pull all this off? Not remotely, but that’s never stopped me from trying.

But the painting job is finished. I get my check on Friday. My pipe dream of going to the beach is pretty much shot unless I start shitting hundred dollar bills. There’s just no way I can do it. There is, however, a job prospect. It seems that there’s a night security guard position opening up at the Department of Public Debt and the person hiring is a friend of Mom’s. I’ll be applying just as soon as my family stops trying to see which one of them can monopolize more of my time.
See, given my condition, I’ve been trying to avoid making commitments and responsibilities. Alright, I’ve always done that, but here lately it’s been a good idea. So what happens? The other members of my family go out and make more commitments than they can handle and they expect me to take up the slack since I’m “not doing anything else”. I swear to god, the next one that looks me in the face and tells me I have nothing else to do is getting a fucking fork in their fucking eye.

The house of cards is thus: my Mom is going on a cruise for ten days starting on Friday. She needs someone to take care of her dogs. My sister, who is LIVING IN THE HOUSE with said dogs, is the logical choice to do this. She tried to talk me into doing it and I told her to stuff it. Well my brother and sister-in-law (Der Fuhrer) have adopted a kid. They both work. They need someone to be at their house when he’s at work at night and she’s on call in case she has to leave. So they need the sister to do it, leaving nobody at Mom’s house with the dogs. Interesting side note: it’s DOGS, plural, because my sister has been collecting them of late. If it was just one dog it could come to my house and I'd still be able to drive the one member of my household that's employed back and forth to work, but noooooo...

Then there’s me. Pretty much all I have on the horizon is trying to find a psychologist that’ll see me (not the easiest task I’ve ever undertaken) and taking Nate back and forth to work. So since I have NOTHING ELSE TO DO I have three or four people making plans for me so I don’t get fucking bored.

It’s not like they’re asking for the impossible, they just ask for it at inopportune times and won’t take no for an answer. I can’t say no, because I HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO DO. And besides that, I can't seem to make them understand that I don’t have any gas money to get to what they need me to do. I have a budget of $10 a week for gas. It takes $8 to get to my Mom's house.

It’s now to the point where I’m seriously considering moving, I mean there has to be a job somewhere waiting for an artist/comedian, but I know it won’t stop them. It’ll just be a longer drive to come do whatever the hell it is that only I can do.

And that’s how I know how Superman feels.

Seriously. people make their own messes and expect Superman to come clean it up for them, and of course he’s the only person that can possibly fix things.

Of course he’s got that swingin’ pad at the North Pole, but he can fly. I can’t. So moving there is out.

It almost makes me wish for Kryptonite…

So in summation, I seem to be becoming a bigger piece of shit by the day, I beat myself up working just so I can continue to be broke, I remembered my Mom’s birthday, but on the wrong day, I’m busy as hell because I have NOTHING TO DO, and to top it off I can’t fucking fly.

I think that’s everything.

Oh, as of me writing this you can probably still read my review of the Fantastic Four movie at Terribly Wrong and the new issue should be up in a day or two depending on whether Mace has been arrested or not.

Anyone in Antarctica looking for a roommate?

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