01 March 2024

By the time I get this up, the three of you who ever read this thing (who the fuck’s in New Mexico and Arizona?) will have noticed an outage. The reason the outage occurred is that I didn’t have enough money to pay the hosting bill. It started out at around $25 a month and then, over the past two years, was raised twice so that now it’s about ten bucks a month more expensive than when I started. To say that I am irate about this is to utter the understatement of the year, but they are also a competent hosting service, so I haven’t wanted to drop them. Also I have never moved all my domain names to them since I left Bluehost four and a half years ago, and the idea of having to move domains from two different services to yet a third one is mildly irritating. It will also cost money, which is why I haven’t finished yet. I stopped having reliable money a little over a year ago and, starting a little over two years ago, too much of my money was spoken for.

(I’m still bitter about the way Dad acted last time I was here. Had he backed the fuck off and let me figure things out, I would have been able to start my own income and things would have been okay by the time Matt stopped sending support. When I think of that lost nine thousand dollars I could have used to maintain my fucking car and save up for emergencies, I could cry. Or that’s an exaggeration because at this point I don’t really feel anything anymore except vague calm and mild irritation. I’m so fucking tired of everything. Fuck it.)

ANYWAY. I have been thinking about starting up the delivery driving again. I will very likely have to drive to Lafayette or Lake Charles to do it, but we’ll see if Jennings or Crowley would work. I won’t have to drive six days a week, either. Technically I really only need to earn about $300 to $400 a month, $200 to keep up with the gotta-pay bills and another $200 for random expenses. I can do that in like two days a week if there are enough orders or big enough ones. No problem.

Will it fuck the car? Probably.

Know what else will fuck the car? Me having no money and then normal car-aging shit happens.

Besides, this will get me out of the house and then Dad will be like “oh, she’s doing something” and maybe things will stay chill around here. Because they pretty much are. I’d like to keep that going.

I’m thinking I could do a schedule of Monday-Wednesday-Friday either being at Carrie’s or going to the library, and then Tuesdays and Thursdays Ubering. I reserve the right to have weekends off. Or, if Tuesdays and Thursdays are too dead, maybe Thursdays and Saturdays. Whichever.

I will probably hit the library more often than I go to Carrie’s. I will be starting up the proofreading course again and I need quiet. Bad enough I will likely be distracted by social media. If I also have to hear the television, that’s not going to help.

I’m not announcing anywhere about the proofreading course. I want room to fuck up and fuck off and stall without anyone hassling me about it. Also it’ll be a laugh to see Dawn ask me occasionally when I’m going to start it up again. (Love ya, Dawn. Not that you read this.) But I’ve thought about it and this is the thing I’ve got in front of me, already paid for, that would let me develop an independent, portable business. I still want to do artsy shit and write, and I am (mostly writing, as it actually pays), but I’d like my whole life to not depend on that stuff because you can’t maintain an independent voice or style when your paycheck depends on the maximum number of people liking you. That is how art turns into crap. I’m already not where I should be, developmentally or careerwise. Let’s not.

The portable bit is especially important. It’s a remote thing I can do without constantly being on the internet (I only need to check my email sometimes and maybe get to a place with a better signal for file uploads and downloads — not a big deal) AND it’s something I can take traveling. I want to travel. If nobody wants me around except when they want me to do something for them, I might as well do whatever the fuck I want. And I really, really want to see Scotland before I’m too old to go.

I might also want to do some kind of nomadic thing back here stateside. I don’t know what that would look like yet.

In other news, I am finally getting medical attention. I have established with a primary care provider, I have gotten a long-overdue tetanus shot (grumble… my shoulder has a painful knot in it two days later), I am scheduled for a mammogram next week, and I am scheduled for a consultation for getting a colonoscopy the week after that. (The consultation is week after next. We’ll see when they want to go up my butt. I have already sorted out with Carrie when she’ll be available because I can’t drive myself home, and that’s in my Google calendar in case I forget.) I think we glossed over the uterine fibroids issue a bit, but if my PCP is not the person for that, I am pretty sure I can schedule GYN appointments without her referral. So I will do that too.

It’s another reason to put less emphasis on getting a Real Job. Nothing I would qualify for at this point in my life would be flexible on scheduling for doctor appointments. The Uber will be. Nothing I can do about that because you fucking clowns out there don’t want a humane working life for Americans, and especially not for American women, and MOST especially not for POOR American women. So, whatever. I refuse to care whether I am living up to the standards of people who don’t give a shit about me. It takes too much of my energy and I have less to spare than I used to.

In still other news, I’ve learned that the Scottish comedian I have mentioned in previous posts here is due to perform in Houston, Texas in I think May. I’ve looked over the scheduling for several of his U.S. tour dates in other parts of the country and I should be able to expect a ticket price of around $30. If I can figure out lodging, and I might want to set it up for the day prior and the day of, I might go ahead and pounce on that. I might ask Carrie if she’s interested in going, but we’ll see. I want ONE cool thing to do this year. I never do this shit for myself if some guy isn’t paying for it. There will be no guys paying for anything anymore. Not counting Dad, and I wouldn’t ask him. If I can earn it ahead, I will. If I sell that Sandor drawing, I really will. G is my consolation prize for big man being married. I do not need the object of my whatever to be tall. Just as long as he’s taller than me. He is. By about two inches. He also will not find me in any way interesting, but at least there’s a meet-and-greet. Should be fun. He seems like a cool guy.

Okay. I need to, like, fix food or something. And then maybe draw? I don’t know. I think I mentioned here that I got a folding tray table at Walmart a while back. I got a folding chair after that, so now I can set up a temporary desk in my room any time I feel like it, and it’s easy to store away. My social worker at the homeless shelter last year called me resourceful. Yes. Sometimes I am. I look forward to a day when I don’t have to be anymore unless I want to be. Probably won’t happen.