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June 5th, 2003
10 Things I Have To Do Today..
1. Clean and straighten porch
2. Bag plastic bottles
3. One bag garbage from kitchen
4. One load laundry
5. Shower and dress
6. Walk for 30 minutes
7. Job search
8. Send credit card payment
9. Write for one hour.
10. Read for one hour.
Whew!! I am out of shape!! I sent the last hour, maybe, cleaning up and I am all sweaty and winded. Unbelievable. I hate being old and overweight. I am worn-out already and it’s only 1:30, but, I have to start somewhere. The time is now. Carpe diem or something to that effect.
I’m looking for a job. I NEED a job. I have absolutely no money. I am broke. Time to get my ass in gear and find employment. The only thing, okay, two things actually, I am fat. Beyond fat, obese. I’m ashamed of my appearance, what kind of job can I get with this girth? Plus, I am not truly trained in much. I have worked in restaurants nearly all my life, and I do love it, just a hard job to do when one is as fat as I am, plus being old is not a bonus. So, now what? I looked online for work at home employment, but, I am only fooling myself? Some of the ads ask for a registration fee, always a flashing yellow warning of risk, not as if I have 30 bucks anyway. Is that pathetic or what? I don’t even have $30. I am so completely out of money; I have to come up with something.
I need to go to the doctor, but, you probably guessed it, no mula. I’m almost afraid to go; afraid to find out something is terribly wrong with me. High cholesterol, high blood pressure, diabetes, depression, anxiety disorder, and so on and so on. Besides, I have gained at least 40 pounds since the last time I was at the doctors, and I’m embarrassed to be weighted. I look like shit. I feel like shit. I’m falling apart though, piece by piece. I need to see a dentist, I need to see a doctor, and I more than likely truly need to see a therapist. The problem, no money. I guess I should try to get welfare for the time being, at least MediCal, but, it’s uncomfortable. I’m not even sure we qualify. I am so humiliated by my appearance I don’t even want to walk into the welfare office. I look so trailer trash. I AM trailer trash. I hate it.
I found an old book of mine from years back, 1991 to be exact. It seems I have always been looking for magic words to heal me, to help me, make me whole, and threw out the years I have come to realize; there are NO magic words, no secret formula, no easy way out. Time to simply grit my teeth and do what I have to do. Stop being such a lazy ass. Stop being such a baby. Stop feeling sorry for myself. Stop it, stop it, stop it. Be an adult. Act like a grown up. Get my shit done. Stop sitting around licking my wounds.
Stop making excuses, stop procrastinating, stop being afraid of everything. Get off my fat ass and do it. Anyway, the book is called “DO IT!! Let’s Get Off Our Buts.” So far, I like the book, but it seems to be agreeing with my thoughts on why I am such a mess. Fear. I am afraid of everything. I was afraid as a child, I was afraid as a teenager and I am afraid as an adult. Even more so now. I so need to get over this. I’m getting older, I don’t want my life to have meant nothing. I don’t want to simply be another slacker, born, lived, sort of, procreated, and died. I want something. I want more. I want it all. I want to smile again. Laugh. Breathe. Love. Play. Be. Simple be.
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