I Can’t Get Started

I Can’t Get Started

Today, I admit I have little to say that will be light and fun. I’m on the verge of a rant.

The raccoons are tenacious. They were able to rip apart a screen in the garage door. All my dear chicks, now quite large, were all lying dead on the floor of the coop/prison this morning. I’d done a good job constructing their room, and installing the screen in the door, but not good enough. All thirteen of their bodies lay there, not a one eaten. Might be a lot easier had they been taken. What a waste. A bloody waste. I can’t move them, Elihu asks complete honesty of me, and he wants to be a part of everything. I can’t toss them and pretend they where enjoyed, used; I can’t pretend they didn’t die in vain. When we arrive home today, in the early evening, this will be news to him. We will face it then.

I have hours before me of preparing music charts for Elihu. He has a concert this weekend and simply cannot make heads or tails of the music as it is printed unless it’s literally a few inches from his face. May as well sing into a box. So, I’ve hit upon the method. It’s time-consuming and requires I type the text, and literally cut and paste it into the enlarged score. Then I must once again copy this to make the final page. And I’m out of black ink. So, this is before me.

Also today I meet with an elder attorney to strategize about mom and dad’s future. We’re hoping to save their few assets from the man. I don’t believe they have much to live on. At the age of 48, and only because of necessity, I will finally learn the financial truths of my parents.

My house is a wreck. Books, drawings, dirty dishes, unmatched shoes and recycling litter the floor along with spots of dry chicken poop. The laundry is once again a huge task. (Bed wetting continues, and with it gobs more housework than I should have if things were otherwise.) Sheets need to be changed. I have but one set for each bed, so must get them done and on the beds before tonite.

Today we meet with Elihu’s mobility coach. Must remember to check in with auto insurance guy, as his checks recently bounced. Worried my insurance can be canceled. The lawn is now thigh-high and with a backdue amount of $800 on my electric bill along with all the others, how can I afford to call my mower guy?

Driving to school, having kept the death of his chicks from him for the time being, I began to pout a little. I lamented how disheartening everything was. I wondered angrily, and aloud, how the hell it was I was supposed to make a living when all I can make is $40 an hour, and even then it’s just a couple of times a week? I mean how the hell can I catch up teaching piano lessons?? Elihu tried to calm me. Usually, I keep it all to myself. But this morning, maybe cuz of the chicks, I was going off the edge. Elihu, very much about the law of attraction, coached me. ‘It feels great to have our coop just the way we like it, and to have all our bills paid so easily’. Ok Jerry Hicks. Thanks. I tried to lighten up a bit, but deep inside I was beginning to slide again. Bad enough I was so duped, so poorly treated by my ‘best’ friend of two decades – and continue to be so treated – but then there was all this life. And I faced it alone.

So, am I alone? The stats of my blog would have me thinking I’m not. So out of the hundreds of readers, the dozens who read daily, where the hell are the shout-outs, the cries of ‘we’re with ya, we know just how you feel’?? Man, guys, today can this not be such a private affair? Can I please have a couple comment posts here? I am fucking tired of living broke and alone; my consolations these days are my son and the hope that somewhere out there, others are sharing our journey and lending us their emotional energy and fortitude. It’s great to know that my little posts are enjoyed, and it’s great to hear from old friends unearthed by the machine of Facebook – but what of all the rest? Testing, testing, is this mic on???

Ok. That’s all for now. My apron is on and I’m going to do my best today. Here I go…