Saturday, June 7, 2008

what the fuck did i just do?

so this could be a drug induced depression, but i kind of doubt it.

moving back here, to michigan, i now remember why i left in the first place. for one thing, it's SHAPED like a mitten, which automatically should tell you that it's fucking freezing. (oh there's going to be profanity by the way, if you're not into venting you should move on) another reason i left, there are still no jobs here. and by no jobs i mean... you can't apply to 15 places and then have the luxury of choosing among 5 great opportunities. within one week of *visiting* hilton head, i had been offered 3 jobs and had done a double interview for another. here, i'm lucky if i get eye contact when i turn in the application.

hilton head was a dream for me. an accomplishment of a lifetime. to move somewhere by myself, for myself and to succeed. i had contacts, friends, references, hangouts, success, and freedom. i was, i felt, important. my family missed me, and i missed them. missing holidays wasn't fun and going through hard times, sometimes alone, wasn't a party either. long distance relationship? not good for the sex life and definitely not good for mental health. but i still had something else to reach to if one thing went awry. missed my family? it's ok... i could hang out with friends and laugh and things would be ok again. the holiday would pass and it became just another day.

but now... what am i? jobless, homeless, purposeless, and what? nothing. please don't misunderstand homeless. i have been independent for a long time. i've had my own place, a place to be kallay. somewhere to hang my pictures, to spit my toothpaste and whoops, i forgot to rinse a bit off the sink. but it's MY sink so who gives a fuck? i'll clean it later. i have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, cable tv, internet access... but none of it is mine. i am not ungrateful, nor am i regretful. everything in life happens for a reason. but i miss it. if i moved back now it would be different. the dream job has moved on. the condo is someone else's home. my importance will have wilted.

so now what? pick up, move on, be happy with what i have and be thankful for the people that have provided it for me? sure... sounds kind of like the end of a movie. or the beginning of one where you watch someone struggle through shit to get to another peak. excuse me for not being excited about starting over. again. for the millionth time. in a mitten.

a mitten where i don't have any close friends who know lots about me and understand my sense of humor and want to be in my space. a mitten where jobs are few and far between and where you have to put on a song and dance to get hired. (read: lie, lie, LIE your way into a position HOPING you really do have what it takes) a mitten where applebee's is considered a fun night out for dinner and "those other places" are for the rich people. call me a snob, but whatever.

i've lived to see the other side of the fence and let me tell you, it's fucking greener. better food, nicer people, easier friendships, and greater financial freedom. there's honesty out there. there's less chatter about other people and their lives because they had their own shit going on. people are emotional and they aren't afraid to share their hopes and dreams with a stranger. i know more about strangers in hilton head than i do some of my nearest and dearest in michigan.

but there was no affording a $1200 condo without a roommate and a job that wouldn't let me have another job. especially since my car decided to jump off a bridge and commit vehicular suicide and leave with me it's debt. bitch. moving back to the small town mitten was the only option other than eviction and bankruptcy which (haha) is sounding kind of more like fun right now.

having a plan and then getting told... sorry you're having surgery! is annoying. but not like debt collector annoying. it's like flat tire in the rain with a dead cellphone in the middle of nowhere at 3 am and no money annoying. it's a shit hand to be delt. particularly when you were told your insurance was still intact for another 13 weeks only to be told by the hospital admin. AFTER the surgery and upon checkout that uh-oh.. they were just kidding. (or had no fucking clue what they were saying) so COBRA it is and the bills keep getting higher. add that to the rent you have to pay alone and the termination fee you have to pay alone, the $223.41 carpet fee you have to pay alone, the higher car payment, the insurance, the cellphone, the student loan, the debt, the OTHER hospital bills for when you KNEW you didn't have insurance but your mom said *don't worry about it* and then a year later you're being sent to collections and fucking worrying about it.

my family, god bless them, doesn't have to miss me anymore. so now they can go back to ignoring me and rolling their eyes at yet another kallay debacle. i'm good at these. the last one was more interesting and less common for the common majority so that made it even more family reunion worthy. (you know when you whip out the best stories of the past 5 years to share with people you call family but hardly know) it hasn't been long but things haven't changed much here. i have but i'm being forced to stuff it all back in and go back to being the baby. my mom's still selfish, my grandma's still a saint, my sister's still a bitch who could qualify for june cleaver if they ever needed a replacement and my borther in law is still man of the year. good for you guys. i had something happen in my life that was not in my control, but somehow they will find a way to make it my fault. i had surgery but i should be in a good mood because we're having a birthday party for my sister. sorry but here's your card and i'm going to vicodin land without sorrow. i'm in fucking pain and for a person with a high tolerance for pain, that should say something. but of course i'm over reacting and i'm a drama queen. because i'm the one who always makes a big deal out of nothing. (as i wipe the sarcasm off my brow) enough about them, that could take a minute.

moving on to brighter subjects.. my boyfriend. lovely as he is. he's busy. and annoyed. and fucking cranky. and while i understand all of these things... despite the utter mess of a pollack painting that i'm in... i'm still happiest when i can talk to him. when we can just relax and have a beer and watch a movie or a game and just chill the fuck out. but this is rare and that annoys me. it annoys me to the point of wondering. am i the one for him? (here's where i get stupid and start worrying about someone else's happiness over my own... watch this!) do i make him happy? does he feel *better* being around me? does he want to be better being around me? does he learn from me? will he grow with me? i don't usually ask if someone else is the one for me. i've been married twice and that's because i was so afraid to lose them, i married them instead and then wised up and threw both of them to the curb because they were assholes. if that's not honesty, i don't know what is. so i don't ask "the one" question. i don't need to. at this point, if i'm with you... then you make me grow. you have something that i'm learning from. but because i also have that whole heart on the sleeve disease (read: i've watched too many romantic comedies)... you can treat me like shit and i'll stick around to see if anything changes. i'm sick like that. it's what makes sensible girls like me fall in love with the losers. we're not stupid, just way too naive. anyway, ed's not a loser. he's good people. he's funny, he's smart, he's a great father, intelligent, and kind when the mood strikes him... but he's also some other stuff that you don't need to know and i need to figure out.

so yeah i'm a head case at the moment. i'm ready to work but my body is laughing at me. i feel like the world is. and that's depressing. but not sylvia plath depressing. more like, i need a bottle of wine, a tub of HD ice cream, and a miracle depressing. i miss what i thought was my home and had greater expectations of moving back here. this mitten's got a whole in it and i'm missing my shoe.

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