The Quixotic

Just cute.

2011-12-03T21:53:00.001-08:00

School is almost over.

At first (only a few weeks ago), I felt incredibly erratic. High on optimism and the idea of my bright future, freedom, success and independence and the next moment unbelievably sad. And hurt. Very, very hurt. The extremes of it were pretty exhausting. And then, I don't know when, I woke up - I guess - and was quiet. I want to say calm but I think calm would feel better than this, and that is what I really long for. A genuine sense of inner peace and calm, that's the only thing I wish for, except to maybe fast forward through my life a little bit, skip the tough parts.

I suppose now you'd say I'm just going through the motions. I'm quiet, but it's a sad quiet. I'm not thinking as much about the future, although that would probably improve my mood I feel guilty doing so.

I've been thinking about thinking that a boy is cute. I haven't had a thought much like that in a very long time, and it's foreign to me. Those typical feelings and thoughts have been out of me for a long time, but I have been considering their return. It's a little exciting, and scary. Thinking of a boy being nice to me, and it being a cute boy, kind of gives me butterflies. They're pretty frightening, butterflies, though. I fail to explain it properly, of course.

I feel like being alone is going to dramatically improve my self esteem. Seems a little backwards for a girl, don't you think?

Numbers

2011-11-13T21:43:00.001-08:00

I have been looking for a second job. I don't want a second job, but I do. I want one in that I want to make coffee again, because I miss that so much. Additionally, I made much better money in the coffee business and I wouldn't mind having that money again. I could, theoretically, be able to pay my bills and maybe even start saving (this might be asking a little much, though). It would put some distance between myself and my current job. Things are a little weird there, but that's a long, complicated story. It's not really a big deal, but suffice it to say that if I could go back to barista-ing and only work one day at my current job, I'd be pretty thrilled.

On the other hand, I don't miss the stress of juggling two schedules, two sets of bosses, two sets of co-workers. I've done that plenty since I started working and it's stressful. It's tiring. And I don't feel like I should have to work two jobs. Again.

That nagging voice of responsibility somewhere in the corner of my brain keeps telling me I do have to.

By the same token, if I get another job then Dan might start to think everything is okay. That's why I almost wish we wouldn't even get any financial aid in January. It's a chunk of money that could easily trick someone into thinking that they're alright financially, then bam! it's all gone.

For some reason, I think that if we're in hot water it'll finally click with him. But we've been in hot water for almost two years, even hotter water the past six months, and it doesn't seem to have had an effect.

I can't even buy toothpaste.

The Plan, Part I

2011-11-09T23:17:00.000-08:00

In five years, I will be 25.

On a suggestion, I'm going to (try and) write a plan about where I want to be in those five years. It's a lot for one fell swoop, so I've decided to go at this in sections, starting with finances. Finances are constantly on my mind; when I'm tasked with considering something about the future, I'm thinking about money. Planning goals? Thinking about money goals. I am always thinking about my money, savings, debt, interest accrued on this, if I pay this much extra on principal how much soon will it be paid off, if I deposit this in my IRA everything month...etc., etc.

So if I just get it over with, I figure it will be easier for me to focus on other things.

In five years:

My debts will all be paid off, the only exception, probably, being student loans. So, in other words, my car will be paid off and I will not owe my parents any money.
My savings will actually be...existent. Ideally, I will have an emergency fund that can support six months of no other income; have more than $1000 in my IRA and regularly deposit at least $100 a monthly basis; have several thousand dollars saved towards a different, more reliable vehicle.
I want to be purchasing a house at this point. Perhaps a lofty goal, but when I was fourteen and first started working, it was my goal to be purchasing my own house by age 18, so I've certainly lowered my standards a bit. If not in the process of buying a house, I want to have enough saved for a down payment and be ready to begin the process.
My regular bills will not be an issue. Everything will be paid on time, in full, or more than in full, if possible, with enough left over for either spending or the very occasional splurging.

Now that'd just be peachy.

Pumpkin seeds and glass houses.

2011-11-05T11:10:00.000-07:00

I'm drowning, but not really drowning. It's more like a water limbo. I'm not the best swimmer but I'm treading water. Every time I'm about to sink and cease breathing, I find a little bit of footing but only for a second and then it's gone again. This is some kind of deep metaphor for my life.

Whatever, I suck at metaphors.

I'm tired of trying and trying and working and working with no break, no relief, and no help. I'm tired of being responsible for two people entirely on my own with no support, not even from the person who is supposed to support me unconditionally.

I'm tired of not being able to make progress on, let alone meet any of the goals I have for myself, especially financial ones. I'm tired of crunching numbers and having to resort to other sources for help. I'm tired of seeing all of my goals become impossible because of this handicap/tumor I have growing on me, everything I planned and set for myself falls to the wayside so I can keep a roof over his head and food in his mouth and videos games and porn on his computer. I'm tired of cleaning and cooking and every other house chore that goes unrecognized and unappreciated. I'm tired of drowning in paper work, errands, phone calls, oil changes. Everything falls on me.

I'm tired of watching him show no effort, no motivation. I'm tired of him watching me struggle and doing nothing but sit there. I'm tired of feeling like he just doesn't give a damn.

I'm tired of feeling guilty.

What do you do? When does the point come, that you actually do it? I don't know, not anything.