A collection of random thoughts which, if I weren't so mentally exhausted, might tie together in a cohesiveness. (I coalesce the vapors of human existence into a viable and meaningful logic. Oh, a Bullshit artist!)
I am extremely, severly, and massively broke. This would not quite be the case if old landlord got off his duff and mailed me the check for the almost $2000 he owes me. And I've called him about this. Twice. To no end, alas. And I know that I should really be more emphatic. After all, I never asked for more time when I wrote out my rent check. But everytime I think about that, there's the little voice of Alastair Sim in my head. "Did I ask for more time in loaning you the money? You'd be in no better position to pay me if it were the middle of a heat wave on an August Bank Holiday." What to do?
I got my eyebrows waxed today. And had a great time chatting w/ the beautician who has a similar situation to the Mr. Zips debaucle. Except she put up with hers for four years. He lived with her rent free, utilities free, chore free for three years. No questions asked. It really makes me wonder why women feel like they need to deal with sub-par situations. What do we lack in self-esteem or self-worth that we will put up with so much for such inferior repayment? (And I'm not only talking about the money here. It's also that women spend so much energy thinking of the other person and - it seems - so often get little consideration in return. But that's my own unresolved baggage...) And why? I have no answers. But she was very nice. And she's a waitress at the local Outback and offered to set me up w/ a part time gig, should I feel its' necessary. It's not like I really want to work at a beef joint, but it could pay some bills for a few weeks anyway. Of course, hilarity could ensue:
Scene: waitress approches man at a table in a crowded restaurant. Man: "Are your steaks here good?" Waitress: "Well, that depends. Do you call dead flesh rotting between your teeth and the environmental destruction that comes from synthetic hormones and antibiotics polluting our ecosystem good? Then, yeah, our steaks are AWESOME. Like a hot dog."
Do I really want to sell out and work at a steak restaurant? No. But I also don't want to have a -$84 balance in my account two days away from payday ever again..
I hate that this whole month seems to revolve around money. Instead of spending energy caring about others. That I am caught up worrying about bank accounts instead of how I can spread love and cheer among humanity. Alas, "Make a buck, make a buck."
It reminds me of the brilliant words from the late Mr. Douglas Adams:
This planet has—or rather had—a problem, which was this: most of the people on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy.