Trap

I hate the laundromat. I hate it when people bring their children to the laundromat. I hate it when left-wing, liberal assholes talk about politics LOUDLY in the laundromat. And I hate it when laundromat employees, though they don't give a shit about their job, yell at you for have a power cord plugged into the wall because they're just annoyed that you're there on a computer at the laundromat.

I'm in a contemplative mood. But not really a good one per se. I'm cranky and anxious. My apartment is a mess. I had to call my landlord today to beg them not to deposit my rent check until next Tuesday, because I do NOT have the funds to cover it. I am 30 years old and living paycheck to paycheck. I'm a payment behind on my student loans. I haven't had a cigarette in 48 hours. I finally had my wedding band cut off today at a jeweler.....wait I can't go there, or I'll start crying in the middle of this god-forsaken laundromat. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. There's a kitten I want to save. I wish Champ would update his blog. I wish my sister would respond to my friend request on MySpace. I wish I could learn to crochet and knit faster so I can sell little amigurimi dolls over the internet. Or I wish I could start sewing clothes and maybe sell them over the internet. Or maybe someone will hire me for a freelance job, a book, a magazine, a newspaper ad - ANYTHING because I'm losing my ever-loving mind I need to draw so bad. I am a hermit crab killer....wait don't go there either - yeesh I feel those tears hot behind my eyelids. Dammit. I think I let them get too cold. First Venus fly traps now this. I'm so tired of falling short of self-expectations. I'm so anxious. I so want to cry....


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Okay, okay - rant's over. I'm back from the laundromat, Champ has gone back to his dorm, and I feel better actually. I'm looking at my left hand's ring finger and still see the imprint of my ring, which I put beside one of David's pictures. A tiny shrine to 5 years - David was always into shrines, well, he was before he became a born-again Catholic. I wonder if it will leave a scar (the ring that is), I left it on for so long. But maybe the flesh will fill out and it'll be back to normal. Maybe someday I'll be back to normal. Until then, I have to remember the friends and family I have that ARE here for me. Champ, Trisha, Hannah, my aunt Angela and uncle Larry....even David. And my fish are still alive and healthy, as are my dogs. I have to remember these things before I twirl into a tailspin of self-pity and loathing, which is always my routine. This is the time for change, right? So no more routinely falling into that pity-trap. No more. I'm okay.