I am fairly convinced no one reads this but me...so am writing
here just to get this out...somewhere other than my journal where I can be all
emo and passive-aggressive and no one will give a shit.
I'm sure you've seen the little acronym, FML (fuck my life).
Well, if I had a life to fuck it would be great.
I’ve kind of painted myself into a corner. So many things I
would have done differently had I known how miserable I’d be now.
I wouldn’t have stuck around Austin for a man…stupid thing to
do. I should have pursued my dream of working in film. I was still only 37 when
my daughter graduated from high school. But I thought I was all in love. I
realised I wasn’t about 6 ½ years later and left. But I got pregnant and stupid
sentimental and went back.
Even then, I could have had some kind of gumption..something
other than staying in a dead-end job, shuffling papers for the man…for Twenty.
Four. Fucking Years.
I could actually have retired 4 years ago, but I couldn’t
afford it—in a way, it’s good I didn’t, because at the time I think our
insurance didn’t become free after retirement, the way it has now, and I
developed breast cancer.
I want to retire so badly, I get almost suicidal thinking
about having to go into work every day. But, as I said, I kind of painted
myself in a corner. I want to live alone..but can’t afford to, I want to
retire, but can’t afford to. I want to fucking leave Texas..and the US, but can’t
afford to.
I’m too fat, old, and maimed to find a sugar daddy LOL. So…I
write, I live vicariously through my characters…and I even manage to fuck that
up.
It’s a shitty day in the neighborhood.
