• Previous posts

  • In between days
  • Achoo but make it grateful
  • A good time with Father John
  • Haunted when the minutes drag
  • A seat at the table
  • A visit from an old friend
  • Reluctant but hopeful upgrade
  • HRT over 50
  • River therapy
  • Staying busy
  • Alone time with Billy
  • Smarch weather
  • Small fry
  • We’d all be eating steak
  • Fuck them

Archives from 2002-2006

Somewhere . . . maybe close, maybe far away. I hear it. I almost feel that I can always hear it, you know. In my dreams.

The situation requires vigilance. Constant vigilance. The moment I stop looking, that’s when it’ll come to get me. As I’ve always known it would.

Well, I can’t lie. Things don’t seem good. In fact, things seem very, very bad. It’s definitely out there. Probably we should lock the doors. And arm ourselves.

WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU PEOPLE AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO HEARS THIS FUCKING LAWNMOWER I SWEAR I AM ABOUT TO LOSE MY SHIT UP IN HERE

Oh wait. Nevermind. I guess if he’s not freaked out, I’m good. Yeah. I’m good. Ha ha ha ha! God, what was my problem? Never mind. Ha ha!

Dooooooooooom.

JB is struggling to try and keep his business alive. His beard is shot through with grey, his eyes are perpetually worried. The FDA has buried them in red tape and clumsy, expensive bureaucracy; the market is tough; it takes money to make money; shit happens.

It is a scary and tough time for him, and for us. We worry about paying the bills, about keeping our health insurance. We think about the future and how the reality of dreams is that they’re filled with realities. I think about how money and stability is a trap, I think about what comforts I’m willing to give up and what risks I’m willing to take and I don’t know what the answer is.

I think, well, if the worst happens . . . what if we just picked up and left? What if instead of JB looking for something else with the right salary, what if we just sold our house and moved to Oregon where we have always talked about living? What if what we really want is a slower-paced life in a rural setting and we’ll never get there if we stay on the treadmill where we are now? What if that’s where we want to raise our kids and it used to seem like we had forever to think about it but my god, our kids are growing so fast and soon enough not making a change is a choice in and of itself? What if we gambled it all on the hope that everything would work out? What if we just broke right the fuck out of the trap?

But, of course, what if it didn’t work out? What if we couldn’t find jobs, what if we ran out of money, what if we lost coverage for my stupid asshole $2500/month medication, what if we didn’t have a house? What if the trap isn’t a trap at all, what if it’s the whole point?

I know we already have the most important things we need. But as for everything else—what’s best for them, what’s best for all of us—I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.

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