I don’t know what I feel. I think I’m in between everything. I’m stretched in the middle of everything. Life isn’t letting me up, life isn’t letting me down, I’m just hanging. And because of hanging, I’m stretched beyond what I would like.
I bought a lottery ticket when it was a billion fucking dollars, figuring even if I split it three or even four ways, fine. I bought another when it was 200 Million. I haven’t checked, but a snowballs chance in hell? I know what to expect, even though hope springs eternal.
I went to a mechanic who assessed Mrs. M’s car and said after the oil change, $1300 would set it right. After looking at my car that was the price he put on tires and something else for my car too, but then add the same amount again for another part that needs fixing. Add the heat we’ll need to replace whenever it gets cold again. Add the teeth I need to fix, and we’re doubling down again. I’m not winning. And I’m not bankrupt. I’m between.
I hate this. I’m angry and bitter that I can’t get out from under the shit that keeps falling apart, I’m happy it’s not worse. I’m frustrated Mrs M can’t or won’t do what I want. And I’m happy she’s with me and I don’t want anything different, I just want more of her. What the fuck? It’s half a shit storm. Because a whole shit storm would kill me.
I don’t want the other half of the storm to hit. I want to be free. Instead of life letting me down some more, or stretching me some more on this stupid rack,
how about let me fly? Some days I wish I had a few fewer scruples and I could just go wild. But who knows what consequences would come of that? OK, it’s not “ultimate suffering,” but I’m getting old while the suckage gets older. I’m tired of this shit and I can’t figure out a good way out. Why does the only answer seem to be money, and money I don’t have and can’t get? I mean, FUCK! Really. I contemplated titling this post the same (“FUCK!”)
The HVAC people aren’t doing anything wrong. The mechanic isn’t doing anything wrong. He’s only telling me what normal people would be able to fix or more likely just buy a new car. He isn’t even a cheat like a couple other mechanics I’ve had the misfortune to do business with, back in the day when I had money.
Some mechanics are ass holes. On purpose. Ask me why I’ll never go to two specific car shops. Long to short, one was frisky with my credit card and had my numbers on file because “the machine won’t work and the guy who can work it will be in later today.” Another left bits and screws out on the engine and lost a fan cover and then the shop acted like the stuff was like that before I brought it in, bull shit, you ass holes. (And then fired one of their mechanics because he was doing this kind of shit to people with money. But the guy I went to see this past time was right and the reason I know he’s right is because we had the same diagnosis from two other mechanics.
It just majorly sucks that it’s all piled up stretching me all at once, and I’m going to tear like Stretch Armstrong after a yard and a half and a double twist, or my stress is going to kill me. If you pray, pray harder. For me. Please. If you don’t pray, fuck, pray anyway. It can’t hurt.