$8 for four days of food

Okay, so I got my refund from Netflix, and I now have $8 to feed myself for four days.  The classic 5 dollar week is a dozen eggs, a gallon of milk, and a loaf of bread.  A gallon of milk is $2.50, a loaf of bread is $1, and a dozen eggs is $1.50.  Not enough for three meals a day for a week, but definately good enough for breakfast and lunch.  Two eggs a day for six days, skip breakfast on the 6th day, plenty of toast and milk.  It's not a bad way to eat.  You'd think I'd loose some weight at some point, but nah.  So for eight dollars I get the bread, milk and eggs, and then I have an extra three dollars left.  With that, I could get a jar of peanut butter which is surprisingly high in calories or a box of ramen, but UGH!  Maybe some mac and cheese.  As far as produce goes, I may be able to get some potatoes and an onion to add baked potatoes to my list of things that I can make or maybe I could skip the bread and eggs and think of making a good soup that'll last me a few days.  I made split pea last time and it was okay and really cheap, though I'd have to invest $3 or so into ham pieces.  Same with potato soup. What else could I make that's incredibly cheap?  I just looked up "ultra cheap meals" and came up with some ideas.  Maybe a good cream of mushroom or cream of broccoli soup.  Hmm, that sounds good.  For $3, I could make a soup, easy.  Well, we'll see what I come up with.

Fucking Oregon Lottery!

I hate it, every time I sit down in front of one of those machines I will spend every cent that I have to my name in hope of hitting a big jackpot and when I do, I spend the jackpot before I walk away.  I'm such a piece of shit.  This time, I sacrificed my food money and so I have a half a loaf of bread, nine eggs, and three top ramens to last me to payday.  Wow.  So I'm really feeling like shit right now.  I've given up so much for so little.  There's nothing in return.  A feeling of excitement, of maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.  I want to be a better person, but it seems like I'm getting further and further away from the good person that I once was.  Maybe there was a time when I could have pulled my self out of the gambling cycle, but those days are long passed.  So I sit here and I wait for my next paycheck when I will spend the bare minimum on bills then go sit in a bar for an hour and put bill after bill into the machine hoping to find happiness in money and flashing lights.  I remember when I would go to the bars to sing and get drunk, sure I'd drop a hundred bucks in a night for liquor, maybe black out and make an ass out of myself, but at least then I had the good pure fun of being on stage and being the center of attention for a good reason for at least a few minutes.  What do I get now?  To be that guy in the corner getting sadder and sadder as my money gets lower and lower.  There's not a lot in life that's worse then the feeling of your last dollar in the machine.  You know you've spent more than you should, you know what waits you when it's gone.  No food, no extra money, minimal cigarettes, and still you hope beyond reason that the next hand of video poker will strike it rich.  You swear to yourself again that you'll walk away if only you can get it back up to $20, and you actually believe it.  Then that last quarter.  You pray to a god that will not listen to please let it be a winner.  Then it's gone.  You're alone.  Nobody cares that you've there once again.  It's done.  Who knows, maybe next week I won't put any money into a poker machine . . . yeah right.

Just saw my friend come online who I haven't seen in months, years? I don't even want to say hi, what do I have to say to him?  Look at me, I'm STILL unemployed, I'm still perpetually single, I've lost my car, there's nothing good to say about me.  I'm a complete and total looser, I have no right to exist.  I'll leech off the government as long as I can and then see what happens I guess.

Okay, so failure again.  What's new?  Oh well, at least it was fun . . . now I'm awaiting certified letter from the IRS . . . Yay.  Still, life could be a lot worse. Don't you think?

Okay, I'm still alive.  Last night, laying in bed, I had kind of a morbid vision.  Well maybe not a vision, maybe a pre-dream.  Anyway, I was laying on this knitted blanket that I use in lieu of a bottom sheet, and I was saw my grandma on her death bed.  She's not dead yet, nor is she dying, well she's old, but not dying in any immediate way.  So she was on a hospital bed and the family was gathered around her, and everyone was getting to say their goodbyes, and I thought, what will I say?  What can you say?  So here I am, 9 days into the new year and 10 days clean (again) and I'm contemplating death.  Well trying not to, and not too deep.  I still have the original agreement with myself not to think about death until I'm thirty.  Of course thirty is barely 3 years away.  So yeah, I'm still alive for now.

Blah

Why must life seem so futile?  New Years alone?  It seemed like a good idea at the time.  Or at least it didn't seem important enough to worry about until it was too late.  So today I realized that I may be faced with spending New Years alone.  It seemed like an okay idea.  Sitting alone in my room reflecting on how far I've fallen in the past year.  Oh have I fallen.  Now, as the day approaches, little more than 24 hours till 2012, the thought fills me with dread.  I'm so sad right now.  I just want a little bit of validation.  I'm so angry, I just want some satisfaction.  I'm so ugh, I just want blah!  :-(

My Ankles

They hurt SO bad.  I know at 300+ pounds I'm bound to have ankle, knee, feet problems, but over the past week they have gotten worse and worse.  It takes so much effort just to stand up and when I get up, then most of the time I have to hold onto things or lean on walls just to walk around without wincing in pain.  I'm sick of it.  I'm afraid people that think I'm doing it for attention, but I promise you I'm not.  They actually hurt, and they haven't stopped hurting for a week and a half.  First it started with my left ankle, which is still the worst of it, but by over compensating, my right ankle is hurting now too.  I really hope this goes away at some point.

Finally an emotional snapshot!

Wow, I am so angry right now.  I wake up and my ankle hurts to bad I can barely put weight on it, so I ask my step-dad to make a stop at the store on his way back from taking his little girl to school to pick up cigarettes for me.  Of course the douche says no, even though he's making a special stop for his other little princess to pick up a tooth brush, and of course she didn't offer him anything to do it.  Then I say: "Why do we have to see those people tomorrow if we're gonna see them next week anyway? Alas, I'm obligate." Referring to my sister's birthday party, and the other little princess says, "Then don't go, nobody wants you there anyway!" What a bitch!  I mean, is there any worse way to start the day than being told your family doesn't want to be around you?  I mean, fuck!  My douche for a step father won't stop at the store for me even though I'm crippled, and his little princess says nobody wants me at the family thing anyway.  What a great way to start the day!  To think, even though I was hurting by the time I made it to the stairs, I stopped to appreciate the sunrise and thought today was going to be a good day.  So much for that.  Fuck!  Seriously, I feed his fucking dog and take out his fucking trash when he's not here, and he can't make one stop for me?!?!?!  I knew my first impression of that asshole was right 20 years ago when I first met him, took me 20 years to confirm it.

Jamie!!!!

My Kiwi Angel, you're still alive and reading my rants, thank you!!! I can't tell you how much I appreciate your comments.  Plus, because of you I have a minor infatuation with your whole country.  I now know who the All Blacks are and I have an above average understanding of rugby.  Also, I know that New Zealand is in fact two islands . . . okay, really that's all I know, but still it's a lot more than most ignorant Americans.  Thanks again . . . :)

I know I shouldn't . . .

Sometimes living with my family is the best thing that ever happened to me.  There's no pressure to be anyone but myself and they have to love me for it.  Even when I make what to me seems like a huge mistake (spending part of my rent money on Video Poker) they still don't hate me?  What's up with that?  Still, this isn't good.  I love being part of the unit and feeling like a kid again.  I like the sense of structure and not wondering where my next meal is coming from.  I love knowing that no matter what, there will ALWAYS be dinner cooked for me every night.  It's making me irresponsible and immature.  Because I don't have to be responsible or mature.  Still, there is something that will never beat mom's cooking.  Even though at 26, I should have my own wife and kids and house and car and career.  I was on the track to have all of that, and then Assurant and specifically Kandi and Thor fired me and threw me to curb like five years of my life were nothing.  I would love to say that I'm done falling from that blow, but nope.  Over a year later, I'm still reeling.  Alas, I ramble.  At this moment, I am grateful for my family who forgives me when I can't forgive myself.  Now if only I can shake the lingering influences from that which I escaped.