January 20th, 2013. 11:04am on a Sunday, and I’m listening to z103.5. My choice for pop music for decades. I am high on a tiny amount of THC, less than the size of a pea. One poor inhale. Enough for a good release, and some writing, at my desktop, not bed-side.
Katy Perry, fireworks is the song to inspire me. It distracts me just enough.
I’ve been in a wird zone of emotion over the last year or so. I had a series of ups and downs, and a lot has changed in the 12 months since I lived in Milton. I often think about diving my life into chapres, with each one reporesenting a home I lived in. I believe this one is the 14th or 15th. I worked it out before, but have forgotten.
When I lived in Miltoimn, I was in the master bedroom of somebody else’s hiouse. Actually, that was my home for the one before that as well. I liked living in other opeople’s lives becayuse it’s far easier to tend to the needs of somebody else than my own. I’ve never been good at tending to my own needs.
I say in jest to my friends and writings, that I am a co-dependant, living without a co. co-less. It’s a rouyght life, so I tend to seek out co’s to tend to. I live a life, happiest in the support of others. I have evoilved to feed off the smiles and laughter of those I serve. A smilke changes me. I feel it.
In my own way, I think I make the life better of those I choose to live with. As soon aspossible, I start morphing into what I think a best friend would be. I listen with sincer interest, and try to interactiuvly understand all about them. I pick up their habbiots, hobbies and interstsm while introducing them to my collected interests and discoveries. We visiyt places, and do things. We learn together. I probably sneak in tecahings and asdvice as if it were fact, because that’s just who I am. I try hard to make them smile, for short term and long term.
With DG in Milton, we didn’t spark off right away. I think, to be a good friend and servant or at least, provider of happiness and growth, you need to be partnered with somebody of compatable personality. To be submissive, you need a doninant. IN order to do what somebody else wants, they have to want. Or at least understand their wants. DG was somebody who didn’t like to ask, or need. He didn’t seem to have favourites, or show any real happiness doing things.
I stil feel that we did see browth, and happiness in the long run, and DG was able to feel better about hiomsel;f, and life, while going through a partivcularly low point in his life. It was time to mmove on, and give the master bedroom back to him, and his new #1.
So in March 2013, I went looking for new places to stay, on a budget… in Toronto.
I gave up several of the things I said I never wanted to live without. Each step backwards in my life of success was a hard hit. I gave up new cars, new homes, and moved into a place withoyut a dishwasher or A/C. A basement apartment in a home or “characters”. If I were a stand up comediean by trade, I’d have hit on a national tour of submejct matter. Just the tourettes drunk woman doing laundry was a full set of jokes.
It was an adjustment, but I have learned my thing. Worry, Stress, compolain, adapt, and love. That’s how I tackle new things. In the end, I did love that place, and was sad when the landlord announced it wasn’t technically a legal apartment, and he was getting in trouble, so I had to leave. He said in 120 days, but I took longer after pointing out the law.
I moved to this place, and while sitting on my bed in bed after an orgasm, I looked around, and I already love this place. It’s almost one of the nicest places I’ve lived, except all but 3 of them. (grin) I second-thought realized I’ve always lived in really nice places, except for twice… and one was where I just came from in December.
I’d seurvuied a whiole chapter alone. Drug use was up and down, but I maintained a stable social life and work life. There were low pointys, but I ended high (pun intended) and with money in the bank.
Still a whopping debt I ignore, but money in the bank.
This apartment, although in a basement without A/C is quite nice. The walls are not white, and there are windows everywhere… but not fill windows that would limit where furnature could go, and always have to be closed because I don’t want everyoine at ground level watching me.
Irnonic note: I have webcamns on my lkivingroom 24/7 bbut am paranoid about having people see me through the eiwnodws. I guess I just fear that locvals can see when I’m not here, and steal my computer stuff, which looks pretty impressive through the windows.
At least in a absement apartment, they have to get through doors. The windows are all too small to be entry points, and the doors are in visable areas.
I don’t worry about being roibbed, so much as I worry abouty losing my computers. Not exactrly the same fear.
Fiore terrifies me, but that’s another thing.
In the 30 days or so I’ve been here, the noise levels are fine. I live below an older gentleman of some foreign decent. He lives alone, as I do and just does pretty much what I do, except his TV is in a different floorplan above me, so we don’t really conflict. My office and livingroom and kitchen are silent, and the bedoorm overhear levekl is low. Acceptable.
I’ve yet to hear him vacuum, and he hasn’t heard that of me either.
Laundry is outside my door, and I have not yet given upo on my “never go to a laundrymat”: life goal. It’s a glose cheat however, because, despite it being at my doorstep, like last time, it is shared,m and a load wash and dry is $2.50
Not quite a laundrymant though. It’s the leaving the house tyhing I really dred. I pray I can afford this place for years to come. It’s perfect.
If it hasd A/C but we;’ll handle that in the summer. Who knows. Maybe it’ll be OK.
Some of the goals I pass forward each year, are to do sometyhinmg. To pick an idea and follow through. Ideally, one that prvides me about $800 a month, to feel safe. I have fear for losing my $800 a month job this year. It’s a new stress. That is the rent that pays for this a[partment, plus $60 for hydro.
I still think I could do well on YouTube, but withouyt a CO, I am lost. I’m not used to doing things foir myself. I still like to smile, but I get it through external sources, like TV andradio – or people. I don’t have the motivcation to make myself smile. I don’t have a plan. I can’t start.
If fact, I may be less able to expresss what I wanmt to myself, than DG was. We were too alike. He found a woman, and the pairing changed him back to happy, normal DG.
I had that for a while, but obcessions grew and guilt over not being a better man failed me. It declines and ended, almlost 10 years ago.
Each of the pairings I’ve had in the chap[ters that followed were great years. Male, female, male.
So this chapter has no direction. No plane. I drift, hoping to maintain enough income to pay bills, occasionally drugs, and eat out more than half my meals.
My ceullar is the last item of status I try to keep fresh and exciting.
I try to end up each month with the same, or more money in the bank. I’m bad at overspending the good months however. My catch up-is skeltchy. Overall, I’m down as of now, but that came from two moves and a two week forced hotel vacation (long storey). I could have been back up to the best level of the year if I’d spent less. I know that is an obvious comment, but I did waste a lot over Christmas. I can blame a lot on the move through… I’m content at my level of savings for Jan 20.
As long as I keep my job.
IN 2013, I have adopted a new partner however, and although he’ll be among the first I don’t actyuakllky live with, I hope to safify my support needs and my personal needs by paying him to work with me to build and expand my business.
I end my 50th year and declair myself 50 this year. I think about retiurement age Jeff more than ever. When I was in my 20’s I actually didn’t worry, thinking I’ve always been OK with death,m and I wasn’t being healthyt in any way, so I estimated a good probablility I’d be dead early, and not have to woirry about my 60’s
I also used Keven Spacey as a goal-model and knew that I could become a success in my 40. A lot of col stuff I could still do in my 50’s
Of course, many of those dreams wwere when I was more cash-rich.
End of part 1.
OH LOOK, A ZEPPELIN
It occurs to me that pot use is amazing, but not for the reasons some might boast. I’m still undecided on how I feel about the future of drugs and legality. Pot is certainly more easly abused and “addictive” than alcohol, and is currently only ruining the lives of kids who probably would have been problems otherwise. “bad kids” as one might say. Obviously this is a generatliztion for literary purpose, and one could discuss the specifics for days… especially if high.
What I mean is, weed is so many different things, with different recipies and dose levels. Input style as well.
I do my best to do it infrequently, and alwys go through a period of guilt before acceotance. I enjoy the writing priocess it allows me. It is almost ironioc that I take weed TO feel emotion, and evaluate my life and loss and brain… not to escape thoise things. In my sober self, I have learned to puit aside my stress. To not hate my situation or self (so much). I accepot and adapt and enjoy my situation most oif the time. I only return to my native obcessive depression in small spurts, and the theory of NOW and ZEPPELIN transitions have allowed me to live a reasonable happy l;ife, in whatever situation.
I ignore the negative until it prsents me with the need to react. If the chore is horrible, it will be horrible in the future too.
On weed, I actually think about where I am, and what could be worse, or better. I write.
I don;’t know if I would need it if I was with somebody. I fear I’d stop writing. I’d stop getting high. Conversation trumps onbcessive writings every time. The chance toi create a smile. It exciotes me even talking about it.
Oh well… the mood has passed. Time to return to TV and watch a show or two. Smile pick me up.