January 26th


I feel so much in common with the young Ned Beatty, just before the toothless man caught him. Forgive me as I babble here. I've done so many of these journal entries cool and composed I'm due one where I'm just a blubbering sloppy ass needy fool.

Friday the furnace inspector was in to check the place out before the new owner moved in. He slapped a CONDEMNED sticker on it, and told me [I haven't checked these numbers] that the acceptable level of carbon monoxide is zero, that human health problems start around 20 parts per million, and that when he stuck the probe into this furnace the needle flickered from 4 to 18 ppm. And I've been sleeping in the next room for 4 1/2 years. I dropped my doc email to see if he felt I needed blood levels checked.

And I just got off the phone with the landlady, telling me that the new owners just want me out. They are willing to pay for me to stay in a motel or something if I can be out around 2/6/03. I'd been promised 3/1 by the landlady, but given a written notice for 2/6. I'm packing slow but can accellerate, but what I can't do is to get the new place done sufficiently. Kevin - my new landlord - has been working his fingers to the bone. Hazel has been doing lots of extra hours packing. Today he and A.T. and Catsy are over there painting. The place needs paint, carpet, and hopefully kitchen linolium before I move in. And they want me to move in there in less than two weeks. The carpet will be the toughest one to get done. All the other things like replacing the toilet works and cracked windows and stuff can happen in time.

The week after 2/8 won't work, as I have non-refundable tickets to Edmonton for a few days, and it's a trip I need and want to take, to visit a lovely lady I don't want to welch on. I will make the trip, even if I'm leaving chaos and returning to chaos.

Oh - and just to make it all fine and dandy? I just found out I'm overdrawn again. I had to shift most of my savings over to checking until this coming Friday's paycheck to cover the damn debit card I've been using. And haven't been doing enough website reviews here at Jane's Guide to bill for this month.

Alternatives? Putting my stuff into storage? Putting me up in a motel? Who takes care of Littleone and where? And I have to have crews of friends two different days for the same damn set of furniture?

Right now I'm putting out email again to a bunch of friends asking them if they can change their commitment from 3/1 to 2/8. Whether I'm moving into a storage unit or into my new home is yet to be decided [by the carpet, for the most part]. I have a lot of massive furniture and really don't want to have to move it twice.

And I'll be open to any friends who call to ask about dropping by the next week or so to help pack after work or any of the other myriad of tasks stacked up of cleaning, painting, moving, whatever.

I've allowed myself to become emotionally handicapped by the fact that I'm having to ask a lot of people for help. There are simple tasks that I can't do, including most of the physical stuff. I move a box, even a light box and wearing a back brace, it hurts despite methocarbamol. I've virtually gone to tears with this asking for help - a 'can't do it/gotta do it' dichotomy that freezes me immobile. Right now I just have to let that go. I have to be able to ask and receive without the wracking guilt. I know without a doubt that I've done sufficient in the past for others, and will again, that I can't worry about the cosmic karma wheel. It's already overbalanced in my favor. The individual balances will just have to sort themselves out as they happen.

Is it any wonder that I've found myself dwelling on the Jerry Springer trash show of my youth, Queen For A Day?

Thanks for listening. Nil desperandum, labor omnia vincit. Back to work.



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