I Guess That’s What Journals are For….

 Whenever I feel something I can’t discuss with anybody, I feel a lump in my throat.  Like I feel helpless.  And honestly, not all the time does talking about it with anybody actually help much, but often it does.  If nothing else, someone else knows, might empathize, who knows might actually help in some small part.  But mostly I just get some small boost from getting it off my chest.

So I guess this is what OD is for.

I cannot discuss this with my family.  First off, they aren’t going to help.  Partly because they can’t; partly because even if they could, their philosophy (and the one ingrained in me to an extent) is that they won’t.  Not that I’m looking for it per se.  I would just like to know where I went wrong.

And what went wrong, you ask?

This is the first time in my independent life I have pretty much lived paycheck to paycheck.  I’m quite adept financially, I don’t make dumb purchases, no expensive vices (unless you count a bottle of wine (sometimes two) a week as an expensive vice).  The only knocks against me are credit card debt (much of it accrued during my marriage) and a car I still have about 10 months payment on until it’s paid off.  Oh, and maybe the biggest one:  I’ve stubbornly still remained in the apartment Casey and I used to share.  Granted, it’s a one bedroom, and that’s part of the problem actually, but moreso than that, it’s a biiiiiig apartment for a one bedroom (at least much bigger than any of my friend’s places, at least those that don’t still live at home, and yes I know my share of people my age who still live at home).  And for an apartment that size, I pay more in rent than I would have done had I searched for an apartment on my own.  And I’m realizing it just isn’t possible to pay for such an apartment by myself.

So the solution is to get a roommate right?

Well, that’s where it being a one bedroom sucks.  A potential roommate would have to live in the den.  A den that doesn’t really have a door (it kinda has one of those accordion doors, but they’re currently broken.)  Or I guess the couch.  

One of my old college friends is interested actually once my lease expires end of November.  But he’s unemployed and not sure how he would exactly pay for it.  One of my other friends (a mutual friend of both of us) has offered to help, so we’ll file it under maybe.  If that doesn’t work, I guess I’m moving.  And that’s a hassle being on the second story.  Some things I may have to leave behind because unless I hire movers, they won’t be leaving this apartment.  Then there’s new deposit fees (won’t be getting the old one back because of Rocco’s like of scratching the carpet) and wondering where that money is going to come from.  And the headache of I won’t be getting time off work for this (what’s the point of having a vacation stored away if it has to be called a year in advance???).  It’s quite honestly something I don’t want to have to deal with.  But I might just have to do so.

What exactly happened to my savings?  : (  It just slowly trickled away, I guess.  

This has definitely put a damper on the weekend.  Another aspect in my life in which I have failed.  But I know others have it much worse than my petty problems.  Just makes you wonder how anyone can make it.  I make over twice the minimum wage and I’m still struggling here.  No wonder a lot of my friends still live at home with their parents.  It just doesn’t pay anymore to be on your own.  Something I proudly did at 18.  And something my brother didn’t do until 23-ish.  And something my sister still hasn’t done at 20.  

I at least know drinking won’t help this time.  Didn’t always have this attitude.

I’m trying to stay positive but this isn’t the ideal circumstance to paint.  Or watch the Cowboys.