Manual Labor

I bought a 13 ft 1969 Nomad Golden Falcon Camper Trailer. It needs some work. I got a good deal and the kind gentleman who I’m purchasing it from is being nice enough to deliver it for me, on Tuesday. So what does that mean for Me and Mine? 

It means I’ve spent a lot of time alone. Packing, delivering, returning.. things. To thrift shops, back to their owners, etc etc. It also means that since Tuesday my sister (who is a fucking bad ass) and I have moved 450+ sq ft of Cedar Chips and what felt like half a ton of pea-gravel. We had to move this because where my trailer is going to go at my sisters house was being taken up by these items. I feel fucking ripped. 

I hated it at first. But now, I think I love manual labor. Its not like going to the gym and running on a treadmill. I never go anywhere, I have nothing to look at, I can’t do it. Being a laborer? Totally rewarding. This morning I didn’t even wake up sore, my muscles feel good, and I feel good. I’m making progress.

Then I got back to the apartment and realized I have 11 God-damned days to have this place empty and bleached from head to toe if we want ANY chance of getting our deposit back. 

So what am I doing? Sitting here drinking whiskey, waiting for Mike and his friend Kris to get home, and talking to you.

Thanks blog, and the few people who like my posts, you do help me through the crazy shit I do to myself. 

 

xoxo

Operation: High as a F*in Kite

I’m getting a wisdom tooth removed tomorrow. Luckily it’s not technically oral surgery because I had room for it and it’s just like a normal molar. I was prescribed 2mb of Ativan (Lorazepam) to take the night before. I’m also taking Valium, Norco’s, and Penicillin. My doctors were fully aware of all my prescriptions and it’s not going to kill me.. But holy moly. At least I don’t care about having to go to the dentist tomorrow. Shit, I wouldn’t care if a stranger walked into my house. I feel like one of those people on the old PSA commercials that are melted into their sofa’s because they decided to smoke pot. 

Hah.

Time for a Face lift!

This shit needs a face lift. No, seriously, it does. I can’t stand even looking at it.

I feel like WP used to give you a few more options for colors, but maybe not. Now, I know I do have very few options unless I buy some extra goodies (which I really REALLY do want), but I’m trying to be good and thrifty. I’m going to continue browsing through their free (ugh) themes and see what I can do. It may be worth the $30 just to have access to all the CSS. Maybe.

Also, I set this format to “Aside” instead of “Standard” so I guess we’ll find out what the hell that means, because I surely don’t know.

Welcome to bat country.. ?

I’m on drugs. Lots of drugs. Prescription drugs though so I only feel a little bit like a junkie. It’s rough.

I’ve been having major back issues for about two months now. Work is being very inflexible and it’s only a matter of time before I’m terminated. Basically the next time I have to leave work early or miss a day. That’s when I will be terminated.

I digress, back to the drugs! I’m taking 5mg of valium three times daily. 3/325mg Norco (hydrocodone, vicodin, whatever you want to call it) as needed for pain but prescribed at every 4-6 hours. I’m also taking penicillin four times daily, but that’s because I’m going to be having a wisdom tooth taken out and they want to make sure there is no infection present. I was on prednisone but that prescription has run it’s course. I’ve now been referred to a neuro-spine doctor. Institute? I don’t know. It’s kind of bananas.

Not only am I not supposed to be driving while taking these meds, but it makes it really hard to be coherent. I work in a call center booking people’s vacations. I have to say though, the valium makes it really easy for me to never get upset when someone is yelling at me. So that’s a plus. The norco’s make me very ill though so that’s quite a pit fall.

M and I have put in our 30 days notice at our apartment. I’m still searching for a trailer I can turn into a guest house at my mothers place. It’s not going as well as I’d like it to, but when push comes to shove I wont be homeless if I don’t get it. M is working out of town and has housing provided by his employer. I have many relatives who have made it clear that I’m more than welcome to live with them if I need to.

I’m trying to be good with my blog! I always feel so much better after writing. Through the years I think my writing abilities have declined. Probably because my social life has become completely stagnant. I don’t have a digital camera anymore, so pictures aren’t as plentiful, and I never think about using my video camera because.. well.. I don’t actually have an excuse, but I never think about it.

I really really reeeeeally  want to get the WordPress.com premium upgrade. Domain name, full CSS access, space for photo’s and videos and fun shit. It would be so easy for me to justify it because “Oh man that would just make blogging so much more awesome!” and it would, but $99 is something I could be spending on, oh I don’t know, a place to live. Maybe I should start a fund raiser. Hah.

Am I Sinking?

Am I? I might be. I think I am. I’m not floating. I’m not up above all of the day-to-day petty bullshit stress that used to just pass me by. I used to hear about people worrying about their bills. Rent. Electric. Internet? Not necessary. It’s not that I never had bills, but I was never 100% responsible for them. My rent was on time, I paid my part on time. Always. But, I always knew, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t all on me. Every single bill. For more than just me. You know what I mean? Even if it was on me, it was my shit. Not someone elses. Does that make sense? If I went with-out, well too bad. I will survive. But what if I’m the reason someone else goes without, someone who’s depending on me to be the responsible one.

It’s like, do you even know me? Do you see me? You think I’m responsible? I don’t care about my credit score. I don’t have a car payment. I don’t have credit cards that need to be paid monthly. If I don’t put money on my cell phone (Yes, I’m pre-paid because I don’t want a contract) then I just don’t have a phone. I’m ok with this. It doesn’t bother me. I sleep just fine at night knowing that someone might want to get a hold of me. It doesn’t effect me.

I miss Santa Cruz. I miss a simpler time. I miss living with my Dad. Why? Because he’s like me. Living mostly off the grid. I had a job so I had spending money and food. No rent, no electric bill, no internet bill. He didn’t have one either. I didn’t mooch off him. We had a fantastic partner ship. We lived well together. He worked on the farm we lived on and that paid our bills. He did his projects because he’s retired and enjoyed spending his time doing it. I lived with him because he didn’t like living alone. Does that make me a mooch? Maybe it does and I’m not realizing it.

I don’t think it does. He asked me to be there. I liked knowing my Father wasn’t living alone on some hill top.

Maybe my whole perception of reality has been horribly skewed because of the fact that I got to enjoy that time. Years of that.

I’m trying to get back to that. I just want a trailer in the woods on some property. Running water, a little electric, these things I can afford without being a slave. Another cog in the machine that doesn’t have an identity. I don’t have an identity. I got jury duty. Just another fucking number.

People have mid-life crisis’s. I’m 28. I’m too fucking young for this shit. I would rather be poor and happy. Happy and living a fulfilling life. Even if it’s poor, and I don’t have extra spending money, as long as I can get by and be happy it’s worth it. What’s the point of having a pocket full of cash if you never have time to spend it?

Retirement? Pensions? I’m the wrong generation for that.

I think I need to just get off the grid a while. Be the crazy lady with my garden and my cats, and dogs, and peacocks, and just dig in.

Yes, I think that’s what I’m going to do.