If my brother had only bought me the Bat Mobile like he promised

The power went out at work yesterday... for three hours. Why no, no we were not sent home. Instead, we all sort of milled around the dark office, chatting and occasionally feeling guilty for not working only to remember that yeah, we couldn't work. Power out, phones down, nothing to do but chat and play angry birds on our phones. When it came back on, a great cheer went up and we all ran to the coffee machine for a refill, only to find that we were out of regular coffee. Thus, the old pots had to be used with the lesser stuff, which was a tragedy in itself. And we are stuck with crappy coffee until next week.*

As you can see, it was a rough day. That must be why I was so exhausted that I took an hour nap after work, something I've not done in ages.

Anyhow. My car ended up costing me about $480 so that was awesome. Slapped it on my credit card and thought "meh, I can't afford the debt I have so why not?" and drove back to work wondering if it felt like it was driving poorly or if that is how cars should feel since mine was such a cluster fuck (previously it would rev up when I put it in park, something it's done for years). The jury is still out so I just have to hope it is driving better and that it is as good as new with the straight from the mechanic smell. And as for that credit card, it's minimum payment is already embarrassingly enormous and I had to pay said payment yesterday so after I pay rent, I'll be lucky if I have $50 in the bank to hold me until next payday. I know, who does that? Well, I sent $100 to my cousin to help her out and I had to buy a battery for my car ($117 or so) and I had to have my car towed (about $40) and so you know. I shouldn't have sent the money to my cousin and I shouldn't have bought the battery (but how was I to know I had a misfiring cylinder, carbon build up, and a blown gasket?) but I can't exactly make that unhappen, now can I?

A friend very kindly offered to loan me some money (OK, I asked the friend if they could) even though I made it pretty clear that the payback will probably not be until 2029 or until I come into a whole bunch of money. Borrowing money from a friend has got to be the worst feeling ever when it comes to this sort of thing. I even offered to find more stuff to sell but was told "absolutely not" and something about friends helping each other out and caring about one another. I don't remember all that was said because I was weeping with gratitude (and deep, deep shame) at the time. But said friend was right and I have some great ones. Tits gave me a ride to work on Tuesday and Storm gave me a ride to the shop that day so that I could get my car. Nameless friend** is lending me money. Having friends is pretty freaking sweet.

Hopefully this will be my last post regarding my car because I don't think I have the strength to deal with more automotive trauma. And, seeing as the weather literally went from 60 degrees to 23 degrees overnight, if it breaks down again I'll most likely just freeze to death and be left for wild animals to eat me. That's not the way I want to go.

Speaking of going, I want to go get more water and mediocre coffee but I'll leave you with this:

1. Evidently there are kiddie couture blogs. I'm not sure how I feel about this. On the one hand, how obsessive are you that you are buying your kid super expensive clothing, styling them, and posting pictures of them on your blog? On the other hand, meh, we all like what we like and who am I to judge? But the whole super pricey kiddie clothes will always bother me... just because I'm poor.
2. I've turned into one of those jerks who posts pictures of the food she makes on Facebook. I don't post them here because I can't really be bothered/it never turns out well enough to merit a blog post but I can't help but put them on FB. I figure people can just defriend me or hide me if they don't like it. Just as I'd do them if they started posting their kiddie couture. 
3. I like Gabrielle Giffords, I do. I think she is a nice lady with politics that are not super scary. But can we not trot her out after episodes of gun violence? I feel like she is being exploited and turned into some sort of mascot and it makes me sad. But I suppose no one is making her do it, right? 
4. There is something on the tip of my tongue but I just can't think of it so adieu.

*I don't know why we have to wait. We have a regular delivery on Mondays but if we run out on Wednesday why can't we order more? Or how about we order a little extra this time? I'm sure it is a money thing and I know we aren't entitled to good office coffee, but for some reason that just irritated the shit out of me. 

**I'm not naming the friend because money things seem somewhat intimate and personal and it just seems wrong. That and I don't want you to get the wrong idea and think I'm blowing a male friend or giving a female friend a rim job for the money or anything. Because that is so totally what you would think. And so would I.

You're Going To Put Your Eye Out

Clap On, Clap Off
The weather in Columbus, save for that little Tornado warning, has turned quite nice lately. OK, not nice exactly, as it is a bit warmer than I'd like, but nice enough. So yesterday I decided to put on my sneakers and try running outdoors again since I've canceled my gym membership. It was quite nice but I was out of practice, so much so that I did something really obnoxious. There I was, jogging along with my iPod in and doing circuits around the neighborhood on the sidewalk, when two girls were suddenly approaching me. They were walking two abreast but they saw me so I figured they'd move to single file for a moment. Only they didn't. Actually, one of them turned around and started walking backwards, continuing to talk to her friend. Did I yell "to the right" or "to the left", whichever it might have been? No. Did I run around the girl, going into the sopping wet grass to avoid her? No.

I clapped.

I don't know what came over me but I clapped loud and obnoxiously to let her know I was approaching and to get her to move. I was a bit indignant about it at first, you know, "what the fuck, bitch? You looked at me and saw me coming but didn't think you should move?" But then I just felt like a complete ass and hoped I'd see them on my next lap to apologize. I didn't, as it happened, but I did convince myself that it wasn't unforgivable. After all, if you are going to be obnoxious and not get out of the way of a runner that you see coming at you, than I am allowed to treat you like an idiot by clapping to get you to move. Your move strange girl.

Taxi!

It's that time again! Tax season. I've had my W2 for ages and I asked J for his a couple of times but he hadn't gotten it. I think the last time I saw him was two weeks ago and I brought it up then. He told me he didn't assume that we'd file together since we are separated and I told him that filing jointly would bring the best return but that I would defer to him and just send me his W2 if he wanted to do so. Well, he never did so I emailed him the other day asking how he wanted to file, not that I wanted to press him on the matter, but we are getting close to the deadline. He said he was going to file his own and I asked how, as married but filing separately or as legally separated. "Whatever the H&R Block Guy says" was his reply. Well, today he found out that it was in his best bet to file jointly so he sent me his W2. I could have screamed but didn't. I simply replied that I knew that was the answer but didn't want to push the issue. But really? I did our taxes last year and a colleague at work did them the two previous years and filing jointly has always been the best bet. And, get this, I can learn!

I didn't take it personally, however. I'm pretty sure he forgot that I'd told him jointly was the way to go. But whatever. I didn't plan on doing this tonight but I decided to restart my filing as a married couple and saw my return go down. I then created a new account to see what J would face if he filed separated. I found that he would owe over $200 federally with a $79 state return and so I emailed to let him know that tax guy and I were right, he benefits by filing jointly. He asked if that meant I wanted to file separately so that I wouldn't be dragged down by him and I said of course not. He then said he didn't want to cost me any more money than he already has, which was a bit heartbreaking and maddening. It isn't as though I haven't cost him money. When we were living together, our finances were almost entirely joint. I went to the ER a few times, as well as Urgent Care once, and had to see numerous specialists. We didn't have a flexible spending account so we had to use credit cards. I didn't ensure that the money to pay my monthly payment only came from "my" funds. So it just makes sense to file jointly to keep him from owing.

A pleasant surprise is that I don't feel inclined to do this out of charity; it's simply the right thing to do. But that is something I didn't think about with this whole separation-eventual-divorce thing, tax discussions. When I asked about how he would file when he was going to do it on his own, I asked if he was going to file as married but filing separately or as legally separated. There has been no official documentation to say we are formally separated, but I don't know if that filing status would cause him problems with health benefits. He is still my husband and we do still have a joint checking account (with about $6 in it) so in my mind, he is still my husband. Thus, he can be covered under my benefits. And until he gets a job that has decent health coverage, or until we are officially divorced, I'd like to keep him covered. I suppose that can be seen as charitable and worrying about him but again, it just seems to be the right thing to do because he has crap coverage and some serious medical problems. It just seems like what you should do.

I suppose this is what it's like to be a great big grown up. It's difficult and practical and responsible. Sure, there is a lot of fun to be had as an adult, what with all the things you can legally do, but it is also pretty shit in some ways. Parents, teachers, and authoritarians like to say "it's fun until someone gets hurt" to chastise children. What they don't tell you is that it never stops. What's worse is that it can stop being fun even if no one is hurt. Lousy adulthood.

I like to think this is why I still eat so much candy - my own little act of defiance.

(Non Side) Car

I got my car back today! It cost me a bundle but I got it back! The guy at the shop informed me that the main issue was was the "back knuckle", which everything is connected to (shocks, struts, brakes, everything) and he couldn't believe that I'd driven it to the shop in that condition. In fact, he told me that he'd never seen a rear knuckle smashed clean through and that when they raised the car, the wheel almost broke clean off. He's been in the game for 20 years and kept the part just because he'd never seen it before. "Glad fucking up my life has at least impressed somebody!" I told him, with good humor, that I was going to be selling my stuff in order to make up for this colossal error, and he let me know that the struts had a life time warranty so, for as long as I drive my car, I'm covered on them. I replied that I plan on driving my little car for as long as I can, that it has only 84,000 miles on it despite being 12 years old and that it is well maintained. "I saw that. You can tell when a car is kept in good shape," he said. "Whenever I bring it in for maintenance I'm told I take good care of it. I don't, you guys do, I just bring it in when I'm supposed to" was my rejoinder.

Poor little car. It rides perfectly but there is fiberglass missing. I drive a 2000 Saturn SL1, a car that they don't make any longer since Saturn went out of business about three years ago. It isn't anything special to look at, and, if you've driven something substantial like J's Impala, it feels like a toy car filled with pipe cleaners, balsa wood, and hope, but I love it and have always planned to drive it forever because I have zero interest in having a car payment.

That was the joy of my day. A woman at work picked me up this morning and was willing to give me rides for as long as I needed. Both she and my boss offered to take me or lend me their vehicles when I was opining how odd it was to be without my car because I had those thoughts of "oh, I'll just run to the bank quickly" or "I'm going to put these boxes in my car" only to remember "no, no I won't, I don't have a car." It was supremely kind of this woman, especially, because she doesn't know me that well and she even offered to lend me her extra car (I was going to but then realized, yeah, I can't risk the liability). The kindness of mid western people still shocks and delights me.

As pleased as I was to get my car back, I think the real shock of it all hit me this evening because I was suddenly very weak and tired. This isn't a terrible thing, just something that is most likely natural and I'm glad of it because I have a feeling I'll sleep well and wake refreshed. I have a long road ahead of me and I still get a bit weepy, but I'm slowly moving from that terrible fear to my old resourceful self that just says "buck up, buttercup. You'll get through this and you'll be fine, as you always are." I am pleased, as I always am, with my resilience. Yes, I did something stupid like make a terrible mistake in traffic, and I am presently royally fucked, but I still have that sense that has been with me for ages, that I'll end up OK.

What else, after all, can I be? I'm not one to sink, but one to swim and whilst I am a poor swimmer in reality (lower body of a Viking, upper body of a poet), I'm also fairly tenacious and always resurface, no matter how strong the current. There is just too much to enjoy in this damned world for me to allow myself to be defeated by something like financial strain or inconvenience.

The Fear

I was going to take pictures of my bookshelves for this post but it was far too pathetic. I've sold most of my books, DVDs, and CDs over the past few months for the extra money (usually for pig-related purchases). Now I am weeding through the items I thought I couldn't part with so that I can put the money towards my citation. Funny how easily it is to mourn and get over having to part with things you once thought you couldn't let go of. Sadly, I've fucked up badly enough that I'm going through and finding solid silver spoons given to me by my grandmother and wondering what I can get for my old digital camera at a pawn shop. I even considered getting rid of internet until I remembered that the internet is necessary for times like right now, when I've had to work from home (I connect to my office desktop through the internet).

This blows. What's worse is that it is so stupid. I have a good job and make good money and yet I still live paycheck to paycheck. Regardless of my forty hours a week, I still stocked up on Ramen today because it is nineteen cents a packet and I won't be able to afford much more going forward. In May I will move to a new apartment, one I haven't yet found but that will cost much less. As soon as I get my car back I will cancel my gym membership. Tomorrow, when I'm back in the office, I'll put my Netflix movie in the mail and cancel that as well to save the eight bucks.

I'm happy to rely on the library but there are certain books I hope to never have to part with, namely An Unquiet Mind, which I read in college and in which I first saw the signs of bi polar in myself. That book aided in the saving of my life. Part of me wants to rip off half the cover to ensure that I never can sell it. But I won't because it is, after all, just a book. And if it can bring me fifty cents, I'll have to take it.

You know, my boss gave me shit about working from home, the day after my car accident. "Please try to come to the office if you can." How was I supposed to manage this without a car? The bus system in Columbus is not that great. It would be at least 90 minutes and at least two transfers and I don't think the timing would work. I cannot afford cab fare let alone a rental and I, stupidly, only have liability insurance. I work hard. I bitch and moan and joke but I actually work really hard. And when I work at home, I put in at least a nine hour day whilst I only charge for eight hours because no one is asking me to go that extra mile. But I do it out of guilt.

Yesterday evening, I shredded newspaper so that I could clean Johan's cage and that broke my heart. He seems OK but I hate that I can't afford to buy him his bedding. Hunter commented that at times it seems I take better of my guinea pig than I do of myself but Johan is my pet and he shouldn't have to suffer because I'm an idiot. I've even made plans for him, should things get out of control; Upstairs Kid will keep him and I'll come every day to take care of him should I not be in a spot to take care of him myself. How ridiculous is that? Johan will always have hay, bell peppers, cilantro, and vitamins for his water, even if I have to eat nineteen cent Ramen. But I can't bear to give him away because I love him and because i don't think he'd cope well in a new setting after three years with me. I, who has never wanted children, am acting like a desperate mother.

Hunter offered to loan me money. So did Upstairs Kid, who has nothing to really lend. But, as I say, I dug my own grave and it is for me to either climb my way out of it or pull down the dirt on top of me. That is the worst part, knowing how good I have it and how badly I've fucked up and caused myself problems.

No, that isn't the worst. The worst is the gnawing fear and uncertainty. I honestly don't know how things are going to work out and I don't know what I'm going to do. I've been looking for part time work for a second job for awhile now but I haven't been successful and I've actually felt guilty with my frustration because, after all, how can I ask for two jobs when so many don't even have one? But I am well and truly terrified because I don't know what I'm going to do and if I'm going to be able to climb out of this hole. Why the stupidity that was my car accident must be so expensive, I'll never know. But I'll try my best to find a solution.

Years from now I'm certain I'll tell stories, with pride, about how I made it through our "Great Recession." But right now I'm scared. Right now, I'm fucking terrified.

The Allmighty Dollar

I know that is awful but you try using the Paint program without really putting effort into it.

Money, oy. Don't you hate it? I don't. I really actually like money. I like that it buys me things I like cheese and warmth and the things Johan needs and, occasionally, cute clothes, good things to eat, and entertainment. I also like physical money. I like large stacks of bills in my wallet, even if they are ones, a nice pocket full of change, and, my favorite, those gold Sacajawea dollar coins the U.S. came out with a few years ago (for all I know it was fifteen years but let's not think about that shall we?) I'm not one of those people who despise money without thinking about it. I do despise the enormous gap between the rich and the rest of us, but I appreciate what money can do for me and I've been fortunate in my life to somehow be friends with those who have more of it than me and, thus, enable me to enjoy my life a little bit. No one is whisking me away to Paris for a lovely weekend or anything, but a night out to a restaurant where I can drink beer and ogle scantily clad hot girls when I otherwise could not afford to do so is quite nice*. I'm sure J appreciates it when he can go to the pub with me and have a good cheeseburger and a few beers without paying a dime. I'm not a gold digger, though I joke about it often enough, I just like when I can enjoy myself without doing calculations to figure out if I'm going to overdraft or not.**

But! My rent is going to go up in March. I can't complain too much as I've been in this apartment for three years without a single increase (save for the utilities increase which happened mid year when I had a ton of water issues... yes, this is going up as well) but it still frightens me because I believe it means I'll have to move. I also got a credit card bill. I don't have the worst credit card debt, but I have enough to cause me shame at my stupidity. Between that, normal bills (car insurance, electric, cable), and student loans (really, I should just let them go to collections because I'll never pay them off), I have a lot of outgoing compared to incoming. Tomorrow I get to sit down and figure out just how much I have outgoing and when and come up with some sort of plan. Do plasma banks take MS plasma? If so, looks like I know where I'll be making a little extra on the side. 

I don't spend a lot on material entertainment or ornamentation. As I've said before, I basically shop at Target or Kohls for clothes and, since Stalker bought me so many shirts, I'm OK on clothes for the most part.*** Food, gas, and guinea pig items, along with normal stuff (shaving cream, cleaning supplies, trash bags) are my biggest needs. Sundries include booze, magazines, and impulse items like movies or rentals (Red Box). I'm also thinking of renewing my gym membership as it is too cold to run outside and I need to continue doing this if only because it is the most convenient and effective exercise I can get myself to do. And I mean need because everyone tells me exercise is good for MS. There are things I can cut out of my life, and I will do so, in order to save money, but I'm still sometimes gripped by the fear. I don't want to end up impoverished, selling family silver to pay the electricity bill. 

But I need to be strict with myself and make more sacrifices. Do I need more than basic cable? Do I really need cable at all? Internet, definitely. Dude, I'm addicted. But do I need television? No. I have DVDs. Can I survive if I only by necessity food? Absolutely, and this would probably benefit me in many ways and help me become healthier. My prescriptions and medical bullshit is covered because I did FSA this year (you put a certain amount of money into a debit card and use that card for medical shit) but that FSA cash comes out of each paycheck, as do my health benefits and a $1,000 charge because I am covering J regardless of that fact that he has access to his own shitty benefits . So my next check will be smaller than usual, as will they all for the rest of the year (unless I get a nice merit raise in March). So I must buckle down and track every penny and reformat my life so that I can afford to live in some way that is amenable to me. 

Don't get me wrong, I know damn well that I have it a lot better than others. It is a rare day that I have to think "can I afford gas or my medication" though those occasions do actually happen to me (Hunter was the last savior who bought me lunch that I could stretch into dinner and, therefore, buy $30 of gas and pay $30 for my Copaxone [this was before my FSA]). Didn't know that about me did you, that I sometimes have to make those choices that you hear about in Channel 6 Action News horror stories about elderly people choosing between food and medication. But I do. I bet you also didn't know that I spent at least $145 a month on prescription medications. That's why I did FSA; I added up my yearly prescription costs and had J do the same and came up with a number that I hope will cover us. Lord help me if either of us has to go to the ER this year because it will cost, at minimum, $600 as opposed to the $150 copay we had in 2011 (thank goodness I developed MS that year, eh, given my three trips for that purpose on top of J's two trips). 

And I can't just budget for the things I know, I must budget for the unforeseen and the forgettable. Oil changes, tune ups, car malfunctions, illnesses, accidents. What if one of us develops something horrible and needs a tier three drug? I don't think J is even done paying for the sleep studies he had last year though I believe his CPAP, the thing that helps him sleep without choking to death, was paid off when I gave him $150 (this, it kills me to say, is in part to Stalker; when you spend a lot of time at another person's house, you save money and can afford to give to someone else). 

Weirdly, one thing that upsets me is that I won't be able to give to charity as much as I did this year. I received a t-shirt from my local NPR station because I donated $90.50 during their Fall fundraiser. I forgot that I'd be getting a t-shirt. I also donated to various causes through work, to a local radio station, and to a care packages thing for troops thing. I felt good about doing it because I could and I knew my small contributions would help. Now I'm back to wishing I had $.40 lunch vouchers like when I was in the third grade, or that I'd taken a class in finance in my first year of college.

Part of me is in the vice grip of that fear but another part is oddly excited about the challenge of sacrificing, of inviting J over to watch the last of the television before I turn in the box, of taking all the things I can bear to part with to used book stores to sell, and of really beginning to live like an adult. But one never knows, does one? Maybe I'll hit my resolution of becoming rich and/or famous sooner rather than later and this will all have been for naught.

*Yeah, so what? J thinks I'm a closet lesbian and other male friends are convinced I'm gay. I like to go out and have beer and check out the waitresses that have to dress up like tarts because it is part of the 'view.'

**While it is nice that I have friends who can treat me, I always end up with a tremendous amount of guilt because I know I cannot reciprocate. None of my friends has ever held that against me and they have tried to reassure me that they understand and that they don't expect anything, but still, it's hard. I have my pride but I also have a terrible need to let people know that I truly appreciate what they do for me and fear that they'll think my words are lies, no matter how sincere I am, if only because I cannot show them materially.

***I've been wondering recently if it is weird that I wear clothes that the stalker paid for. I don't do it for any other reason than I need to wear clothes and the more recent items are the better. I got rid of anything I felt was 'meaningful' to him but the clothes I consider utilitarian. I don't know what that makes me, other than living paycheck to paycheck, but it is what it is. I'm not throwing away perfectly good shirts that I can benefit by. Give them to Goodwill? Well, I've needed new clothes for awhile now so at the moment, I'm the Goodwill shopper. What I don't pay in cash I pay in awkwardness, regret, and embarrassment.  

Monetary Mayhem

Here I was beginning to feel like an adult. I've started making small forays into cooking again. I've gotten better about picking up after myself and keeping my home clean. I'm getting better about remembering what is important and not getting too worked up over things out of my control. I started to feel confident and capable and responsible.

And then I sat down to sort out my finances and panicked. I don't often have this wish, but for a moment, I literally thought "I wish my father were alive, that he was super rich, and that he doted on me." That is my reaction to knowing that I have no money and a lot of bills, that is my solution: fairy godfather.

I hate being poor. I don't have to worry about living in my car or anything, but I do have to monitor my account and worry about overdrafts on a more routine basis than is healthy. And I have to pay bills for mistakes I've made, which is like having someone slap me and call me stupid once a month. My credit card payment is way too high (and those bastards emailed me and wrote me to inform me that I have Even! More! Credit!), I'll be paying my student loans off until I'm dead (at which point they will forgive the debt; I know because I asked), and I'm at the point where I have to make some decisions. I'm going to cancel my gym membership because it is really a luxury that I can't afford right now. I may change my cable set up so that I have fewer channels and a lower bill. Tomorrow I may talk to my doctor about changing my anti depressant to something that is a tier one drug on my health insurance so that I can have a lower copay.

The business of MS kills me because it is so expensive. Is that not the most vapid and ridiculous comment ever? I don't even mean that. What kills me about MS is that I have it, it is presently incurable, and one day I may lose function. But for the purpose of this post, it is the expense. I wrote out my expenses, things like rent and utilities, credit card bills, car insurance, etc. Then I remembered prescription costs and office visits. Tomorrow is $25 because I'm seeing my PCP. October 14 is $35 because it is a specialist. My prescriptions currently cost me about $45 a month. If I continue taking Provigil (which I won't if I don't need it), it will be $95 a month. Once I start treatment, I'll begin taking a drug that is either $30 or $50 a month, so my costs will go to $125 - $145 a month.

I'm OK with eating Ramen. I don't buy a lot of *stuff* so I won't have shopping withdrawal. But I do need to start clipping coupons and thinking about my grocery store trips so that I don't go every day and buy shit I don't need.  I need to pay attention to how much things cost at different pet stores so that I can make sure I'm not spending too much on Johan when I could be saving. Poor Johan. I have to buy him food today.

I think I'll be OK. I used to be really good with money and now that I've made myself face up to it and see my circumstances, I'll probably get back to being fiscally responsible and truly start taking care of myself. But it is going to be difficult and I'm going to be scared for awhile. But I guess that is part of growing up, right?