What if one day of your life could be like a James Bond movie? Or, in my case, I'd probably settle for On Golden Pond, ha-ha.
What if, for just one day, you didn't have to pay a bill, or do laundry, or go shopping or go to work? What if, just one day, you had to fly to casino in Monte Carlo to retreive a vital document from another gorgeous spy, all the while, dining on exquisite food, driving expensive cars and wearing the trendiest clothing? Or, in my case, what if I just spent the day in a rowboat, chatting about nothing special with some other old fart?
Yes, it's Monday. A day off that's not really a day off. Have to pay a bill, do the laundry, go shopping, go to the post office and several other things. Gosh, I hate Mondays. Does anyone really like Mondays, I wonder? I suppose you might, if you really loved your job, but I'm talking about the rest of us.
I'm tired, I still hurt all over and I have to go back to work tommorrow morning. I'm feeling a tad grouchy today. I would love just one more day's rest, but not going to get it. Even the smooth jazz I'm listening to is giving me a headache. Ah well, life's not fair and I guess that I'll just have to live with it, right?
I was thinking about how when I was in my teens, how I'd get up at four in the morning in the late Spring, and walk out to the field next door, and just stand there watching the sun rise over the hills of the Upper Hudson Valley. I'd go out barefoot, the dew soaking my feet and the bottoms of my jeans. A few crickets would be chirrping for all they were worth, but no other sound, except maybe the occaisional car whoshing by up the hill on the distant highway. The lights would all be on, at the regional farmer's market, down the hill in the village proper. I might stroll over to one of the few ancient apple trees that were still left standing, and sit in it. From near total darkness, the sky would gradually get brighter by inches. Then, one robin would chirp tentitively...followed by another, and yet another...then, the chirrping would burst simultainiously into full-throated song. It was friggin' fantastic. Later, maybe a mourning dove would coo, or one of those big ol' pileated woodpeckers would start it's loud tapping on one of the long dead elm trees. Then the sky would change from pale blue to pink to fire engine red, as the bold summer sun came bursting from the bottom of the earth. And I alone, was witness to the wonder.
Now, I sit inside on a sunny day, writing in my boring blog, feeling tired and worn and not caring if it's a nice day outside or not--other than the fact that at least I don't have to worry about not having windshield wipers....what happened to me? I'm genuinely getting old before my time, and I haven't a clue what to do--if there is actally anything I can do--about it.
I'm afraid I'm not much of a night person, never have been, really. It's rough working nights, especially at a worthless job that's doing nothing for me (or anyone else). I'm listening to Bella Fleck's piece, "Big Country," and I feel like crying. This song is how I used to feel...wide and open and free...full of hope and promise and caring. My life seemed like a never-ending open road. Now I am living in a shadow world, full of crushed dreams and no promise for a better tommorrow. I can't even go for a drive in the country, without worrying about the cost of gas. I am a prisoner in my own life and its wearing me down a little each day. Every road seems a back alley or a dead end.
When I write, sometimes I get a tiny touch of the old feeling back, like this stupid DW story that no one's ever going read or care about. Even then, I wonder why I bother. Why? No one reads this stuff, no one ever comes to visit. Seldom does anyone invite me to join them in conversation. I am not much fun to be around, I guess. I've gotten very negative lately, and can't seem to stop myself. My negativity brakes aren't working properly. Who wants to hang out with a depressed, negative and generally unhappy person? I'm getting so, I don't want to look for a new job anymore, or even go outside. I don't like myself anymore, don't like what I'm turning into. But, I feel like someone whose foot is caught on the railway track and is staring down at the headlight of an oncoming train---helpless to stop disaster.
I do try to find little positives in my life, but lately, it's getting to be more and more of an effort. I mean, I say, I hate my job--but at least I get to be close to horses/horse people...I hate what I'm having for dinner, but at least it's not frozen turkey burgers again (unless, of course they are)....I hate my hair, but at least I own a pair of scissors...stuff like that...but it is a perpetual challenge trying to keep from going off the deep end, some days anyway.
For the last 5 or 6 years, I've been striving to give myself a chance at a future--and it was entirely in vain. Five years for nothing. For the working poor, there is NO future...only more hardship and suffering until you finally breathe your last. It never stops--at least, not for long. There's always something going wrong. You get caught up with one problem...and a little while later, something just as bad, or maybe worse, happens...over and over again. It never stops.
The working poor live on a tightrope: one side is hell, the other homelessness, and beneath you...an eternity of nothingness. Someone once said that poverty wasn't a sin--but it ain't no fun, either!
Unfortunately, I live in a country that's all about outer images: beautiful bodies, trendy clothes, fancy cars, the latest gadgets. And, I'm fat, ugly, haven't done any serious clothes shopping since 2004, haven't had a proper haircut since Christmas eve, have no clue as to proper makeup these days, I drive a broken-down 95 New Yorker, don't own a CD player or a cell phone or an Ipod, and have no clue what the heck a blackberry is, get one TV station (sometimes), don't own a couch or matching chairs (one of my chairs is, in fact, a plastic lawn chair with a fancy cushion on the seat), and my dinnerware is only for two--because I couldn't afford a set of four. I have a college education but clean urinals for a living, I haven't been to a movie since August of 2005, Not gone out with friends since April of 2005, Haven't sat down for a proper meal in a resturant since New Year's day, I've never been out dancing, or have been for a manicure, or anything normal women are supposed to do. I sometimes feel like an outcast in my own country.
You know, because of the way I dress, I've been followed around in local stores? Even though it has never in my life, EVER occured to me to shoplift. I'd no more shoplift than I'd smoke a joint. Oh, yeah, and many of my peers look at me funny because I have never had the desire to drink or smoke pot. Hey, I just don't want to. It's that simple. But, it's not trendy in my generation to "just say no." I've actually had to lie about pot, say "yeah, I tried it, but didn't like it," just to get them (peers) to leave me the heck alone about it! I'm not sure why it was so important to them to get me to transgress my own common sense, but...sometimes my fellow Americans are a little shortchanged in the common sense department, these days. The thing is with me, I just am not comfortable, unless I can just be ME. I've always made my own paths to follow--maybe that's my problem. I can't find my path, anymore...I don't know entirely just who I am, anymore...if that makes any sense, I don't know.
Because I've chosen not to date anymore (don't ask--but believe me, I've got my good reasons), I had one person insist that I should "come out." Excuse me? Trust me, I'm not coming out, anytime soon. It's true, some of my best friends have been gay, but just because someone doesn't want to date a guy, and hangs out with queers sometimes, doesn't a gay make. I just have had enough and decided to quit while I was ahead. Although, I did get an e-mail today, that said, "women in your area are waitning to meet you:" Either they are confused about my gender or there's an Avon lady convention in town, ha-ha.
My sister and her guy are both ultra-conservative, security paranoid, racist, narrow minded homophobes...I made a joke about coming out, and you should have heard their reaction! Her guy friend is nice in his own way, but I'm glad he doesn't like driving in New York (can't take his gun with him--no joke). Let Vermont have them both, I say. Stay home on your mountain and vegitate, for all I care, just stay away from me....I'm alergic to conservatives!
Well, I've said my bit for now. No one reads this, so I can just let it all hang out today, and say whatever I feel. And that's how I feel, today. I'm worried about money, my car, my job, my homelife (losing my place to live), becoming far too obsessed with writing and Dr. Who, my future, my health, having enough food to eat, the cats...is there nothing to NOT worry about, anymore...good God! I realized just now...I'm turning into my mother! She was a professional worrier. She'd worry about things that hadn't even happened and might never happen...am I turning into her? Yikes! Think I'll leave my thoughts there, for now...not sure I want to carry this on, any further, ha-ha.
Oh, and every once in a blue moon (have to wait 'till late fall or the dead of winter for one of those again) I place links to favorite blogs in my entries...today's no exception. Here two links to blogs that I only recently discovered....they're wonderful, and I've enjoyed reading them to no end.
http://russelldavies.typepad.com/eggbaconchipsandbeans/2006/03/audio_breakfast.html
And...
http://loggedhours.blogspot.com/
Well, guess it's time for my thought for the day.
If your soul only has one dimention, it will become very flat indeed.
ADDENDUM:
You (assuming some soul is actually reading this far--- or even reading this, period) may not want to read this on the bottom. But, I need to vent--right now. Because if I hold this in, I'm only going to make myself ill.
All I wanted tonight...all I wanted...was to watch a used VCR tape that I bought for a buck at a going out of business sale today...it's not like I haven't seen the movie before, but it's one I hadn't seen in years, and not one of my own tapes (that' Ive literally seen dozens of times before)--only, the VCR my friend gave me, suddenly it isn't working anymore. Oh, it turns on and plays...just no picture or sound. Tried everything I could think of...checked connections, batteries, etc...nope. It's broken. I hate my life. I really would just like out, now, God, if that's not too much trouble for you. I can't even watch a frickin' movie for pete's sake! I feel so utterly trapped. I honestly know how a prisoner feels. I am so incredibly bored and feel so totally useless. Taking out trash for a living just isn't cutting it for me, anymore. I go to work, I come home, I write stupid stuff or read or pick up the flat or do dishes or run errands...and every single day is just the same as the other...there's nothing there anymore. I really want OUT God...please. Please God, get me out of this life! I don't know what sins I committed to deserve this, but I'll repent, anything, just get me out of this horror. I've become everything I never wanted to be, and I hate every second of every day. Please God...oh and God, thanks for letting me hurt yet another part of my body, I really appreciate you looking out for me. I think mom, when she passed on, got the better end of the deal.
What if, for just one day, you didn't have to pay a bill, or do laundry, or go shopping or go to work? What if, just one day, you had to fly to casino in Monte Carlo to retreive a vital document from another gorgeous spy, all the while, dining on exquisite food, driving expensive cars and wearing the trendiest clothing? Or, in my case, what if I just spent the day in a rowboat, chatting about nothing special with some other old fart?
Yes, it's Monday. A day off that's not really a day off. Have to pay a bill, do the laundry, go shopping, go to the post office and several other things. Gosh, I hate Mondays. Does anyone really like Mondays, I wonder? I suppose you might, if you really loved your job, but I'm talking about the rest of us.
I'm tired, I still hurt all over and I have to go back to work tommorrow morning. I'm feeling a tad grouchy today. I would love just one more day's rest, but not going to get it. Even the smooth jazz I'm listening to is giving me a headache. Ah well, life's not fair and I guess that I'll just have to live with it, right?
I was thinking about how when I was in my teens, how I'd get up at four in the morning in the late Spring, and walk out to the field next door, and just stand there watching the sun rise over the hills of the Upper Hudson Valley. I'd go out barefoot, the dew soaking my feet and the bottoms of my jeans. A few crickets would be chirrping for all they were worth, but no other sound, except maybe the occaisional car whoshing by up the hill on the distant highway. The lights would all be on, at the regional farmer's market, down the hill in the village proper. I might stroll over to one of the few ancient apple trees that were still left standing, and sit in it. From near total darkness, the sky would gradually get brighter by inches. Then, one robin would chirp tentitively...followed by another, and yet another...then, the chirrping would burst simultainiously into full-throated song. It was friggin' fantastic. Later, maybe a mourning dove would coo, or one of those big ol' pileated woodpeckers would start it's loud tapping on one of the long dead elm trees. Then the sky would change from pale blue to pink to fire engine red, as the bold summer sun came bursting from the bottom of the earth. And I alone, was witness to the wonder.
Now, I sit inside on a sunny day, writing in my boring blog, feeling tired and worn and not caring if it's a nice day outside or not--other than the fact that at least I don't have to worry about not having windshield wipers....what happened to me? I'm genuinely getting old before my time, and I haven't a clue what to do--if there is actally anything I can do--about it.
I'm afraid I'm not much of a night person, never have been, really. It's rough working nights, especially at a worthless job that's doing nothing for me (or anyone else). I'm listening to Bella Fleck's piece, "Big Country," and I feel like crying. This song is how I used to feel...wide and open and free...full of hope and promise and caring. My life seemed like a never-ending open road. Now I am living in a shadow world, full of crushed dreams and no promise for a better tommorrow. I can't even go for a drive in the country, without worrying about the cost of gas. I am a prisoner in my own life and its wearing me down a little each day. Every road seems a back alley or a dead end.
When I write, sometimes I get a tiny touch of the old feeling back, like this stupid DW story that no one's ever going read or care about. Even then, I wonder why I bother. Why? No one reads this stuff, no one ever comes to visit. Seldom does anyone invite me to join them in conversation. I am not much fun to be around, I guess. I've gotten very negative lately, and can't seem to stop myself. My negativity brakes aren't working properly. Who wants to hang out with a depressed, negative and generally unhappy person? I'm getting so, I don't want to look for a new job anymore, or even go outside. I don't like myself anymore, don't like what I'm turning into. But, I feel like someone whose foot is caught on the railway track and is staring down at the headlight of an oncoming train---helpless to stop disaster.
I do try to find little positives in my life, but lately, it's getting to be more and more of an effort. I mean, I say, I hate my job--but at least I get to be close to horses/horse people...I hate what I'm having for dinner, but at least it's not frozen turkey burgers again (unless, of course they are)....I hate my hair, but at least I own a pair of scissors...stuff like that...but it is a perpetual challenge trying to keep from going off the deep end, some days anyway.
For the last 5 or 6 years, I've been striving to give myself a chance at a future--and it was entirely in vain. Five years for nothing. For the working poor, there is NO future...only more hardship and suffering until you finally breathe your last. It never stops--at least, not for long. There's always something going wrong. You get caught up with one problem...and a little while later, something just as bad, or maybe worse, happens...over and over again. It never stops.
The working poor live on a tightrope: one side is hell, the other homelessness, and beneath you...an eternity of nothingness. Someone once said that poverty wasn't a sin--but it ain't no fun, either!
Unfortunately, I live in a country that's all about outer images: beautiful bodies, trendy clothes, fancy cars, the latest gadgets. And, I'm fat, ugly, haven't done any serious clothes shopping since 2004, haven't had a proper haircut since Christmas eve, have no clue as to proper makeup these days, I drive a broken-down 95 New Yorker, don't own a CD player or a cell phone or an Ipod, and have no clue what the heck a blackberry is, get one TV station (sometimes), don't own a couch or matching chairs (one of my chairs is, in fact, a plastic lawn chair with a fancy cushion on the seat), and my dinnerware is only for two--because I couldn't afford a set of four. I have a college education but clean urinals for a living, I haven't been to a movie since August of 2005, Not gone out with friends since April of 2005, Haven't sat down for a proper meal in a resturant since New Year's day, I've never been out dancing, or have been for a manicure, or anything normal women are supposed to do. I sometimes feel like an outcast in my own country.
You know, because of the way I dress, I've been followed around in local stores? Even though it has never in my life, EVER occured to me to shoplift. I'd no more shoplift than I'd smoke a joint. Oh, yeah, and many of my peers look at me funny because I have never had the desire to drink or smoke pot. Hey, I just don't want to. It's that simple. But, it's not trendy in my generation to "just say no." I've actually had to lie about pot, say "yeah, I tried it, but didn't like it," just to get them (peers) to leave me the heck alone about it! I'm not sure why it was so important to them to get me to transgress my own common sense, but...sometimes my fellow Americans are a little shortchanged in the common sense department, these days. The thing is with me, I just am not comfortable, unless I can just be ME. I've always made my own paths to follow--maybe that's my problem. I can't find my path, anymore...I don't know entirely just who I am, anymore...if that makes any sense, I don't know.
Because I've chosen not to date anymore (don't ask--but believe me, I've got my good reasons), I had one person insist that I should "come out." Excuse me? Trust me, I'm not coming out, anytime soon. It's true, some of my best friends have been gay, but just because someone doesn't want to date a guy, and hangs out with queers sometimes, doesn't a gay make. I just have had enough and decided to quit while I was ahead. Although, I did get an e-mail today, that said, "women in your area are waitning to meet you:" Either they are confused about my gender or there's an Avon lady convention in town, ha-ha.
My sister and her guy are both ultra-conservative, security paranoid, racist, narrow minded homophobes...I made a joke about coming out, and you should have heard their reaction! Her guy friend is nice in his own way, but I'm glad he doesn't like driving in New York (can't take his gun with him--no joke). Let Vermont have them both, I say. Stay home on your mountain and vegitate, for all I care, just stay away from me....I'm alergic to conservatives!
Well, I've said my bit for now. No one reads this, so I can just let it all hang out today, and say whatever I feel. And that's how I feel, today. I'm worried about money, my car, my job, my homelife (losing my place to live), becoming far too obsessed with writing and Dr. Who, my future, my health, having enough food to eat, the cats...is there nothing to NOT worry about, anymore...good God! I realized just now...I'm turning into my mother! She was a professional worrier. She'd worry about things that hadn't even happened and might never happen...am I turning into her? Yikes! Think I'll leave my thoughts there, for now...not sure I want to carry this on, any further, ha-ha.
Oh, and every once in a blue moon (have to wait 'till late fall or the dead of winter for one of those again) I place links to favorite blogs in my entries...today's no exception. Here two links to blogs that I only recently discovered....they're wonderful, and I've enjoyed reading them to no end.
http://russelldavies.typepad.com/eggbaconchipsandbeans/2006/03/audio_breakfast.html
And...
http://loggedhours.blogspot.com/
Well, guess it's time for my thought for the day.
If your soul only has one dimention, it will become very flat indeed.
ADDENDUM:
You (assuming some soul is actually reading this far--- or even reading this, period) may not want to read this on the bottom. But, I need to vent--right now. Because if I hold this in, I'm only going to make myself ill.
All I wanted tonight...all I wanted...was to watch a used VCR tape that I bought for a buck at a going out of business sale today...it's not like I haven't seen the movie before, but it's one I hadn't seen in years, and not one of my own tapes (that' Ive literally seen dozens of times before)--only, the VCR my friend gave me, suddenly it isn't working anymore. Oh, it turns on and plays...just no picture or sound. Tried everything I could think of...checked connections, batteries, etc...nope. It's broken. I hate my life. I really would just like out, now, God, if that's not too much trouble for you. I can't even watch a frickin' movie for pete's sake! I feel so utterly trapped. I honestly know how a prisoner feels. I am so incredibly bored and feel so totally useless. Taking out trash for a living just isn't cutting it for me, anymore. I go to work, I come home, I write stupid stuff or read or pick up the flat or do dishes or run errands...and every single day is just the same as the other...there's nothing there anymore. I really want OUT God...please. Please God, get me out of this life! I don't know what sins I committed to deserve this, but I'll repent, anything, just get me out of this horror. I've become everything I never wanted to be, and I hate every second of every day. Please God...oh and God, thanks for letting me hurt yet another part of my body, I really appreciate you looking out for me. I think mom, when she passed on, got the better end of the deal.
posted by JustNancy | 12:12 PM
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