Living in a Fugue State


It’s been about a month and a half since either Lissa or I have blogged.  It started with our Dad having some major medical issues and eventually undergoing heart surgery.  Some people babble like lunatics in times of crisis.  Our family, with one notable exception, more or less tends to clam up.  Thankfully, he’s recovering, but it’s a long, slow process.  Lissa was able to be there for the surgery, to lend a bit of moral support and whatnot.  Me, I am but eight hours away by car but I might as well be back in Hawaii, with my furniture — which I will probably never see again.  Every time I think I am finally making some progress with my financial situation, circumstances conspire to slap me down, and squash any ambitions I might have had, of one day having curtains, rugs or even a television that’s less than 20 years old and doesn’t take a half an hour to warm up.

Some days I just feel like throwing in the towel.  What’s the point of struggling?  Life is like quicksand.  The harder you struggle the deeper it gets.  You try and you try and you try and you try, and everything just goes south in the end.  Every small victory is really a defeat in disguise, awaiting the opportunity to reveal its true nature.  Everything seems darkest before the dawn — of another crummy, miserable day.

The ex-spousal unit tells me I’m lazy.  Says I should get a “real” job.  So — you want fries with that?

Hey Peewee,
Put your big girl panties on and pull up your boot straps! You are way too educated, gifted, talented, intelligent, I could go on and on here, to go down this path!!!!!

Look in the want ads and find a part time job to supplement your writing because your ex-to-be is taking the kid off your hands during the week. Get a job at a bar, store or at a graphics place. I’ve done it and would do it again. Meet people that way. You’ve done it before. Do it again! Its time to get back out there. DO IT!


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