I'm fucked up. I feel I have no control over anything. This flies in the face of my Existential philosophy, of course. I can always choose how I feel about what is happening, can choose my reaction to it. So I did. Last night I chose to ingest a nerve pill. I got up when Mr. Fixit was knocking on the door. Out of it. So I made the coffee and sat down with Mr. Fixit. He is grumpy. He is tired of the long drive each day, sore from manual labor he had not planned on. I know. I don't blame him. But I am worried. I need Mr. Fixit. He said he is going to need a big check tomorrow. Yea. Yea.
He has gotten to work and I am having coffee and writing this. The inequity is palpable. It is driving the cost up, I think.
Today I have to make some decisions and purchases. I am not good at that. I do not make good decisions and then I am stuck. I have to choose a shower door, a faucet set, and a toilet paper holder. I have to get plumbing and a toilet seal. I am as tired as Mr Grumpy, but the money only flows in one direction.
Would anyone like to buy a big print? Retirement is not going so well.
I can't sit at the computer while he works. I need to be a gofer. One day, maybe, I will be clever again. Now. . . I am just a mewing steer, here to take a goring and calm the bull.
"I should have been a pair of ragged claws/ Scuttling across the floors of silent seas."