I had a revelation a few minutes ago. Standing in the kitchen, looking at all my plates and cups that are never used for company, looking at all the appliances that are never used to produce any food.
All the things that make up a normal suburban life.
All the things that make little difference and add no value when your life is on an edge. I have come to the conclusion that I may be fast approaching the end of any semblance of a normal life. Actually, I think that I passed that point a long time ago. The money is gone, my self-confidence has pretty much imploded, I look like a hideously bloated sea lion with fading highlights and grey roots, and, frankly, nothing seems quite real.
I get up each day, I look for work, I stay at home to save money (which is all theoretical credit card money anyway), and I wonder what point there is to all the crap. Friends are planning trips and vacations and futures, and I am digging dimes and pennies out of my purse to get a baked potato at Wendy's.
I worry that my friends are tired of hearing that I can't find a job. I harbor uncharitable thoughts that most of them would rather poke their eyes out than listen to me harp about my problems anymore. I avoid calling most people because I don't want to answer any questions about my "situation."
Not sure why it all smacked me in the face just now, but it did. Hopefully it will pass in a while. It's like depression and an anxiety attack, tied neatly with a thick ribbon of financial terror.
I would give just about anything to be able to pack up the car and drive to Key West again, like I did in 2001. Just vanish for a week. Go somewhere with crystal clear warm water and a coral reef. Just vanish.
Sometimes, the thought of just vanishing is very appealing.