And I literally had no emotional reaction.
You – “If you had no emotional reaction, than why are you writing about it?”
Moments after I realized that I had no emotional reaction, I felt I should write about my non-reaction.
So here I am writing about it. There it is.
In other news, I’m incredibly over-whelmed. I just want to sleep or throw up. I want to cry. I’m fantasizing about the relief that the apocalypse might bring. None of this has anything to do with my niece’s sexuality. I’m actually kinda relieved she won’t get pregnant too young, suffer from STD’s, or seek unnecessary validation/approval from men. It’s kind of a blessing if you really think about it.
No, I’m overwhelmed with other things. When will it stop…….
My most pressing concern is of course Anthony, and the possibility of getting sued for what he done over the summer. I haven’t wrote about what happened because it went public, locally viral actually, and the story is out there for anyone to read. I just want to remain an anonymous blogger who gets 6 hits a day and if I told you what happened, you can easily look me up and connect the dots.
I started thinking about him again two or three days ago when my new landlord asked for proof of insurance and I had to visit my high school friend who doubles as my insurance agent to purchase yet another insurance policy. It drudged up those bad thoughts. Wondering if my insurance can cover it. Wondering if I’ll lose everything and I’ll have to pay for the rest of my life.
Insurance Agent – “You’re covered with workman’s comp through a different agency?”
Me – “Yeah….”
Me thinking – “I have to be insured for that? Don’t my taxes cover it?”
My broken armed therapist whom I laid off is collecting and by this summer, I’ll owe over $3000. I thought the $3000 gets taken care of by the workmen’s comp taxes I pay into.
And I’ve been getting requested to massage a lot lately, we’ve been busy, I have to keep track of clients stuff, email them, text, call them….wash sheets at the laundromat 4 days a week and lug them upstairs two heavy bags at a time.
I still have to fire Kasey, my crappy therapist. I lost over $2000 by not leasing that first place I looked at, I need to buy a washer and dryer. My fat jeans are getting tight and a little over a year ago I literally couldn’t wear them because they’d slip right off.
I need to move all my crap into the new place and fix it up nice.
And so yeah, I’m a little freaked out right now. Why do I want to sleep and throw up all day? How does that solve anything? My cousin just died, my Uncle Arty is on the morphine drip on his way out, my other cousin is having 9-hour surgery the same time her father, my Uncle Arty, is dying at home.
I need some serious self help audiobooks right now.
And I’m moving my massage business next to my friends massage business. We’re going to share the same parking lot, that’s how close we’ll be. But I have no choice. There’s no place else and I’ll be saving $800 a month along with an added $300 I spend on washing sheets at the laundromat.
At least I’ll be further away from my brother’s spa….