omg, wtf already?!

i’m not complaining, not by a long shot. this is what i want. exactly what i wanted. the fear of paying bills, the sudden waterfall of money out versus the trickling of money in, the cold terror of covering my own ass (which frankly seems a shame: i’ve heard i’ve got a rather good looking ass).

my ass, large a target as it is, is not the point here (more of a rounded curve really), the point is me, sitting here in some strange apartment across the hall from my parents (with whom i eat the majority of my meals), learning how to live life on my own (sort of, if you can consider scooting a walker in front of you to be ‘on your own’, which i do. have you ever seen one of those old ladies pushing a walker? five words: get out of their way.)

shit, i’ve lost my train of thought. shocking, right?

so where was i? here. that’s right: here i am, mildly freaked out, but sipping a small glass of kaffir lime vodka as i open and sort months worth of mail and bills and pay stubs and retirement accounts and new checking accounts and car dealership slips reminding me i have to get the car’s oil checked (don’t get me started now, i’m on a roll**) and i watch the ever dwindling difference amount in the difference cell of my expenses versus income spreadsheet and “mildly” freaked out suddenly doesn’t apply as i edge closer to full on panic attack, but here’s the cool part:

I AM ENJOYING THE SHARP TANGY FRUITY LIMEY DELICIOUSNESS OF MY VODKA!!!

ok, technically it’s my husband’s vodka since we bought it while he was paying the bills, but it’s here now and he’s not. plus he’s a god-damn sweetheart.

this is such an incredible break through I can hardly believe it! look at what happened! I just capitalized “I” and I did it again! and again! and AGAIN!! OMG, WTF!!!

it seems kind of sad, right? pathetic little ernestine living across the hall from her parents, working for her parents, eating with her parents (whoa, i hope this turns around soon, i’m feeling a little iffy on my progress…)

but it’s not sad. it’s part of my journey. my weird twisted internalized nepotistic journey.

and i’m ok with that.