This afternoon was awful and for once it was not because of the heat.
I have a friend named Led. He seems to be somewhat of a misfortune magnet. The latest way the universe messed with him is that, desperate for cash, he risked his last two gallons of gas on a drive to a place that buys blood plasma.
Only to have them reject him because he had an injured thumb that was a little swollen, and they don’t take blood from visibly swollen people.
This, even though the very process of seperating the plasma from the rest of the flood filters out most inflections and the rest are easily screened for on a routine basis.
Anyhow, so there my friend is, stranded in the middle of nowhere because he didn’t have any money for gas and his gas tank is bone dry.
Really sounds like the sort of thing that would happen to me. I feel for the guy. And not just because I have a bit of a crush on him.
And I just cashed my check and put $100 on my reloadable visa, so I would have no problem sliding him $10 so he can at least get the hell home.
What could be simpler in this day and age, where billions of dollars are exchanged on a daily basis over the Internet and people buy stuff in the real world with their phones?
Well, here’s my list of things easier than that
- Decrypting the Voynich Manuscript
- Throwing a paper airplane into space
- Winning a knife fight with a garbage disposal
- Teaching a tornado the lambada
- Walking through a rich white neighborhood when you’re coal black and not getting questioned by the cops
- Stealing the One Ring from Mount Doom before it melts
- Building a fully functional 3D printer out of papier mache
- Surviving a fall from the top of the Empire State Building all the way to the ground while wearing a full, formal suit made of nitroglycerin
- Juggling live hand grenades when you have both severe Tourette’s and bad case of the giggles and/or hiccups
- Convincing Donald Trump he’s an idiot
Everything I tried to do to get him the money was immediately blocked by a dozen surprise obstacles suddenly popping up out of nowhere.
It was like one of those dreams where no matter how long you run, the end of the corridor never gets any closer, and in fact seems to be getting further and further away.
I know, I will PayPal him the money. Woops, I only have $4.75 in my PayPal wallet. Oh well, no prob, I will just transfer money from my reloadable to my PayPal wallet.
Nope. No dice. There is no option for that. What. the. fuck. I can transfer money from my bank account but not my credit card.
Easy peasy lemon squeezy. I will just transfer money from my credit card to my bank account. Should be easy enough.
Nope. That’s not an option. Apparently, once the money is on the card, the only way to get it off again is by spending it.
And so forth and so on it went until I just plain had to give up. And you have no idea how hard it was for me to give up on someone in need. I felt like I was carving my own heart out of my chest.
But I just could not get there from here.
I get sleepy at the most random times lately.
Therapy today. I gave my therapistg the what-for about leaving me sans therapy for three fucking weeks. He was surprised, which was gratifying. He then told me about how few people were doing traditional one on one therapy any more and that he would have been hard pressed to find a locum even if that was the kind of thing psychiatrists did. And he gace me a “things are tough all over” sort of speech.
Dunno how much of it I believed, but the truth is that he is the only traditional therapist that takes public clients in Richmond. So it’s him or nothing.
I have got to get me some money so I don’t have to put up with this bullshit any more.
I told him about my latest mantra : “I’d rather be wrong than unhappy. ”
He didn’t get it right away. I am not surprised. It is the result of a very deep process that has been running inb my brain for a very long times and thus is not an easily graspable concept. The words are simple and easy to understand, but their rationale is not.
It’s simple. What I am talking about is the fear of being wrong. Of making a mistake.; It sounds like such a simple thing but it can burrow its way so deep into the mind that it paralyzes the individual almost completely.
After all, the only way to be sure you’re doing nothing wrong is by doing nothing. Right?
SO progress begins by being willing to make mistakes, or at the very least, willing to risk making mistakes and being wrong.
Even morally wrong. Contained within this idea is the possibility of doing things I will regret later and wish I had not done, and that includes morally incorrect things.
But I want to be happy. That’s the top priority bar none. I am done with being Gulliver in Lilliput, scared to move lest he hurt one of the tiny people all around him.
From now on, I am doing whatever makes me a happier person, and the goddamned Lilliputians will just have to learn to keep the fuck out of my way.
I am letting my beast out of its cage. I need more connection to my id. I have lived a cold and lonely life for far too long and I want to be alive for a change.
Even if that means I go out of control. Even if that means walking my path without knowing where it is going. Even if it means trusting my emotions to take me where I need to go. Even if I have to open every goddamned door, chest, and closet in my mind until I finally have enough of myself back to come back to life.
So watch out world. Hot stuff, comin’ through.
And fuck anything that gets in my way.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.