Mar. 2nd, 2017

quirkytizzy: (Default)
We're out of cigarettes and nearly out of coffee.

I really only need three things (outside of Maslow's basic tier) to get along. Cat needs fulfilled, coffee, and cigarettes. Run out of any of those three things and the black cloud that is poverty and despair begins to settle in.

Jesse and I had a couple of long conversations recently, both of which were confusing to me.

Last night, I talked about how I just wanted to get a job, to do something, to get a tiny but regular paycheck. I want to earn my way through the world like a normal person does - and they do that by getting a job and waiting for payday.

That's what normal people do. I want to be NORMAL. I want to walk into the damn grocery store or some data entry temp office and get a job like NORMAL people do. I WAS normal there for a little while with Synchrony. Normal and MAKING IT, no less. Then Hey, Lupus! showed up and the normal that I'd scraped decades for just collapsed in a useless, wailing heap on the ground.

Jesse said I'm going to have to accept that I can't be normal, at least right now, and that kicking and screaming and refusing to look for alternative ways of earning money and even just filling my time is doing me no good.

And often as he is, he is right. But it still confuses me because I want so badly to be normal, and normal people go out and get jobs in buildings that they drive to and have lunch breaks and an established shift start and shift end. I used to be able to do that.

Knowing the answer, clear and in full, I still ask myself "Why can't I just be normal?"

So, even knowing it won't get me cigarettes right now, I wanted to ask you, Bart - and anyone else who knows things about this - how do I make a living, or just a small, somewhat regular paycheck- writing online? How does one break into that work?

I need the busy-work, something to do. But more than that, I need the money. It doesn't have to be much. Just enough to buy my own damn cigarettes and cat litter. Something to stretch the food stamps I have into that last week and a half that we always run out of on.

Does anyone know how freelance writing works?
quirkytizzy: (Default)
Thank you guys for the advice on writing. I'm going to look into those. Don't be surprised if I message you guys for more specific advice soon.

Something strange over the last couple of days - I've been thinking and talking about David more often. Since getting sick, his influence in my mind has dropped to nearly nothing. But for some reason lately, he is in my thoughts.

So I talk about him and am surprised to note the venom to my voice is missing. It's like I'm just talking about him, not spitting. And I realized something, too. Something that surprised me.

I no longer wish ill or harm on him. I did. I STRONGLY did before. I wanted him to suffer, to be miserable - all things he inherently is anyways, but it gave me joy to think of him being unhappy.

All of a sudden, it doesn't give me joy. His unhappiness is his and not mine. I told Jesse last night that as sick as I am now, it is nothing that I would EVER wish on anyone - not even David.

That surprised me. I'm not at the point where I'd wish him well, but somewhere over the last few months, I AM at the point where I wish him no pain. If David were diagnosed with a disease similar to lupus, I would feel genuine sorrow for him.

This is new. I don't think a day will ever come when I want to speak to him again. I don't think a day will ever come when I want to settle old debts, spats, or arguments.

But a day has come where I no longer actively wish him harm. This is strange, but I assume good.
quirkytizzy: (Default)
Rupert, my new kitten, is frighteningly cunning. It seems there is nothing that can foil him in search of food and scavenging. We've had to cover trashcans, put bagged food in cans with lids, all kinds of things to try and keep ahead of him. He was a stray, so it makes sense.

However, I just realized that while he may be cunning and resourceful, he is not smart.

I just caught the cat trying to gnaw on on a broken piece of glass.

Cunning. Not smart. Silly cat.

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