Good things about this week:
- Aunt sent me a care package (uh… lots of care packages)
- Grandmother sent me money
- Gas went down to $3.79
- I wrote some poems. They’re not good, but they’re extant, which is something. They’re super narrative.
- It’s my dad’s birthday today.
- Someone hit my car and it has to be taken into the shop. I haven’t figured out how to do this yet, as I don’t want to leave her in the shop and I can’t afford the deductible. I have to prove his liability first. He’s totally guilty, but I don’t trust things like this when lawyers are involved.
- Missed my first class on Wednesday morning (my 11:00)… set my alarm, but woke up at 11 when the church bells rang 11. An awful feeling. Since, setting two alarms. One of those things that sucks because you just begin to think you’re on top of things and then… something happens that proves you’re an irresponsible loser.
- Received an outrageous “estimated” gas bill. Will argue with them, obviously. It’s not one of the nifty “budgeted” bills which estimate your yearly usage and average it so you don’t have huge winter bills, and there’s no start-up/connection fee… it’s just a really high bill because they didn’t actually come out and read the meter. There’s absolutely no way I’d have used this much gas in three weeks– it’s as large as what I might dread a midwinter bill to be if I had the heat on constantly.
- No word from Martin, whose first book in English is officially released today. Pondering Susana’s insight about passing on pain. Also thinking a lot about the book. I remember when he first decided to write it, and I remember editing parts of it again and again and again–hours of work for which I highly doubt I am thanked in the book. The book had a large place in both our lives for a couple of years. I had PTSD and OFC; he had his ex and this book. I miss him, but I don’t miss the book. I bet it’s good though–the parts I edited were good. (I wonder how many more copies of this book would sell if I actually championed it instead of just mentioning it, in passing, with mixed feelings.)
- I have to work tomorrow. Working at 9a on Saturdays sucks but is potentially lucrative and is a privilege (extra hours–>more money).
Things that are worse than the bad things:
- I didn’t wake up and go to work and get my building smashed by a plane and fall down around my ears
- I don’t live in a country that gets bombed all the time
- I don’t walk 10 miles every day to gather polluted water, risking being violently raped and/or killed, and leaving my children in a refugee camp where they are starving to death while I watch.
- I wasn’t the girl who got raped on South Campus
- I wasn’t the blind guy who, along with his son, was tied up and robbed of all the equipment he uses to interact with the world.
Things that might be ok about the bad things:
- Felicia being hurt might prevent me from recanting on my decision not to knock on Martin’s door.
- Missing class meant I didn’t have to teach that day.
- Getting an outrageous gas bill meant I got to talk to my cute landlord.
- I don’t have time for boys and philosophy anyway.