The Suckage of Mondays...

Does anyone remember the Garfield comics of the late 70s and early 80s? Even today Garfield has this decades long gag of hating Mondays. Pies would fly from nowhere to splat in his face; Pookie would go missing; the coffee would be weak and cold and Jon would invariably schedule all his vet appointments on Mondays. Garfield's answer was rebellion. If he didn't get out of his extraordinarily small bed, nothing could go wrong and the Monday curse would be avoided.

Man, I wish I'd never gotten out of bed yesterday.

Monday had to have been one of the worst days I've had in a long time. You know the type when it's a nonstop trip of insanity and madness? Every thing that can go wrong, does go wrong.

I awoke to a splitting migraine.

Remember my last post when I was lamenting that I only have two pair of jeans that fit? Well, make that one pair since the zipper busted on one. Nothing earth shattering, just annoying.

Later that day I speak with my mother. On the phone. At work. Shouting and cursing ensues. I have a pain in my head ten times greater than the migraine I woke up with and my chest is tight and hurting after I end my call with her. I swear I was hatched. That woman cannot be my own mother.

During lunch I receive a phone call from the credit union. Seems there's been a problem with my automated debits and all the transactions came out of another account. So they freeze my account and tell me I owe them an estimated $2,400 for an error they acknowledge to be their own.

I swear, I can't win. It's times like these that I thank God I have children. They force me to behave normally, to push on... Because were it not for them, I'd be too depressed, too angst ridden to even get out of bed. I'm so discouraged right now. I try and try to do the right thing, to raise my girls right, to give them a decent home, pay my bills on time, private school education, etc. I've stopped messing around with married men and men with girlfriends. I don't drink, do drugs or anything of the sort. All I do is live for my kids. Be that super strong woman. And yet... bad things continue to happen. I've always been a strong believer in karma. If you do good and live right, good follows and comes back to you. The Golden Rule. Cosmic Karma.

I do good. I do real good. And still I get nothing but shit. Weird, once in a blue moon shit at that.

I could be like any number of women (and men) that support their income with adverse means. Hell, I've done it myself before but I said under no circumstances would I ever go down that road again.

I'm starting to rethink that.

As a matter of fact, I'm starting to rethink a whole lot of stuff and not in a good way. I'm starting to think that there is no karma, that there's just life. And life, supposedly, is what you make it. I'm sick of just barely making it. Barely hanging on, barely scraping by. I want my kids to be happy and healthy. I want to be able to provide for them without having to worry where my next dollar is coming from.

And it's funny. I have a good job, I make decent money, I don't have a single blessed credit card at ALL. I have no extra expenses outside of the basics: rent, daycare, utilities, groceries, gas, cell phone, and cable. And I just recently added the cable. I monitor my money. I use coupons when shopping. I don't spend more than I earn and I'd even managed to store a tiny bit in savings to pay off a bill or two on my credit report. And then this shit hits the fan. Or some other shit hits the fan. Always something.

But that's life right? The ups and downs and unexpected. But the money... I can't stand worrying about bills. Will I rob Peter to pay Paul this month? I need to supplement my income and my tried and true methods of obtaining it just aren't working out.

I'm just so sick and tired of struggling when I shouldn't be. There are ways to make money, but me being all lofty and high minded about things, I just don't want to stoop down to do certain things. I've done amatuer porn before. I didn't like it, but it paid well. A couple of scenes and I had enough to pay my back rent on my apartment and catch up on all my bills my rotten husband left me with when he deserted me. It wasn't something I wanted to do; but it was something I felt I had to do in order to pay the bills. And I may end up doing it again. Again, it's not that I want to but really, there's little else that pays well in such a short time period. But I'd swore I'd never go back down that road again. I don't knock women that do it, in fact I admire them. Some do it because they enjoy it, some make a career out of it but most are like me and just trying to put food on the table, pay the bills and keep a roof over the little people's heads.

And that's really all I want to do. With all this hell going on around me, it's given me reason to think very hard about life and getting what you want out of it. Right now I'm exhausted from thinking and worrying, emotional as hell, and depressed to boot so please don't take my ramblings as a declaration on my dedication to become a porn star. That's not happening. At least not yet anyway.