This may truly be the end of the line for me.
Like many of you, I've been out of a full-time job. I've been lucky, even blessed, to have unemployment money come in so I don't have to worry. Even when it started to run out, the government and good ol' George W. Bush stepped in and extended my benefits twice, the second time getting me to around the end of March, where it'll finally start warming and I will more than ready to rid myself of my cabin fever and do ... something.
Well, I'll be damned today when I logged in, did my perfunctory click of buttons to get my weekly paycheck. Except there was one extra line in my process page:
"You have $595 left in your account."
WHAT??? I thought I had till my birthday, around college basketball tournament time at least, before I had to choose. That ain't gonna fuckin' get me to the end of this month! Are you sure? Are you fucking kidding me?
I can't check it now, but I assume that's what they're saying, so I am screwed, big time. Y'all know there ain't a damn thing out there right now. On top of that, I'm trying my best not to go back to the shit jobs I had before. They were sucking the life out of me before I quit one and lost the other. But now, just so I can have income so my parents won't threaten to kick me out of the house and so I'll have money to go to strip clubs, getting a shit job is exactly what I'll have to do. If I find one, that is.
And I thought about going back to school, but for what? Nothing interests me. All this time I'm trying to figure out what I want to do, but all I want to do (sleeping in, reading the newspaper, surfing for porn on the Internet, stripclubbing, bitching about sports) are things you can't make money in. I sure as hell know what I don't want to do: work and go to school. But the end of my time on the dole will force me to do something I don't want to do, or what I should be asked to do.
Most of us are leading lives far short of what we wanted them to be. I don't want to be one of those people, I really don't. But I've just run out of time before finding something I enjoy doing. I hate this, I hate it all. It's so goddamn unfair.
I signed up for this self-defense class in town, just in case a mugger or my father wants to take a run at me. I thought it started next week, so I could sign up for both Mondays and Wednesdays so I could exercise because I'm fat. But I lost the brochure mailed to the house so I had to go to City Hall. There, I find that the Monday class started last Monday, so I only signed up for the Wednesday class.
I drove 25 miles to the outlet mall to buy some Nikes. Are they necessary for a self-defense class? Won't my ratty, busted old Nikes suffice, especially if I'll probably be wearing them when I'll need to use my self-defense techniques? (Will I be the only guy there? Ooh, I didn't think about that question.) And should I be buying these knowing the money's about to run out? I was still in shock, however, and I bought them for $20.
I then went to the Barnes & Noble for a mocha. I've gone there for a year so I could indulge my love of reading magazines for three bucks at a time. They have a member card; $25 and you save ten percent on your coffee. I calculated; I would need to purchase a mocha 84 times over the next year before I finally start saving with this card, a frequency about once every 4 or 5 days. Thing is, starting last spring I'm pretty sure I hit it. But now, I can't; I might be working or in school or just too tired from working or being in school to do it this year. The baristas, all nice and cute girls, keep plugging it, but I know they've done the math. They're probably disappointed I didn't buy the card early last year so I could save money.
They say it'll snow later this week, but it was close to freezing and it was sunny, so what the hell, I'll get the car washed today. How often should you get your car washed, anyway? It's the first time I go the car wash close by me. It's always packed; it took about 25 minutes to wait and get through the whole process. They were so busy that they just didn't put my soggy and nasty floor mat through its floor mat cleaner. I get in, give the guy $2 in tips (because I know they didn't clean the mats), I step and "squish!" Fuck 'em. And because the roads are slushy with melting snow, my fucking car got dirty again. And my car's rusting, too; why the hell did I get my car washed when it just fucking got dirty again?
I'm scared. I'm pissed, and I'm very, very scared. I don't know what to do.
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