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Month: December 2017

If we had known what we know now…

If we had known what we know now…

Title comes from “One Year Later” by The Get Up Kids. Interestingly, not the first time I’ve used a line from that song as a blog title. See also: “This is not a swan song, but it goes

I did want to follow-up on my Thanksgiving post and thank Jordan for reaching out to me. It meant a lot, as we’d not really spoken before. I suppose that I struck a chord with Kayla, as she blocked me on Instagram. That reaction seemed odd, as I didn’t reply or interact with the post. I just took a screenshot. In my mind, I would think blocking me on Twitter and/or Facebook would be more productive, but what do I know?

I worked today. 174 stops, 209 packages. It was a long day. I was struggling with the severity of my situation and really just in crisis. I’m not sure what happened, but I managed to slip out of it for a couple hours, bust out the work. But as soon as I was in my car, off the clock, the sadness crept back in, though not as dire as it was this morning.

Despite what I tweet and blog, I actually spend most of my time worrying about money. I’ve looted everything that I had and then some. I work a lot, but I don’t make enough to cover my expenses. I’m moving towards eliminating as many bills as possible with the skoolie conversion, but it’s not happening fast enough. Nor do I have the budget to really complete the build. That instability is really what’s had me on the rails for the last few months. The heartbreak is just more romantic to talk about.

It’s all sort of intertwined, when you think about it. My financial situation and the heartache. They are joined together at the hip. I explained the financial stuff to some friends over tacos the other night. Just the broad strokes. Their response was somewhere between bewildered and “are you fucking kidding me” and “Why?”

That’s an easy question to answer though. It’s that you (I) do stupid things when you’re (I’m) in love. Allow me to be your cautionary tale. It is entirely possible that my only purpose on earth is to be cautionary tale for others. “Look what she did, don’t do any of these things,” the tour guide says, as they walk by my exhibit in the freak show.

I should go to bed. Another 200 packages await me in the morning. Capitalism never sleeps, but I should.