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mallorys_cameraMade myself tromp yesterday since it’s supposed to rain & snow today, so it’s likely I won’t be able to get out.
Same view. Different day:
Shortly after scribbling that last entry, Lois Lane texted to tell me she’d just been laid off.
Radio silence when I followed up with sympathy. (Oh, NO! You WILL get through this, it's a terrible disappointment, I know, I know, but you are a bright shining star, & I KNOW things will be okay. Etc etc etc)
But her announcement pushed me back into full panic mode viz the whole finding-a-new-place-to-live deal ‘cause if Lois Lane isn’t working, can she afford to be in a fabulous, Utopian collective habitation with me?
Panic was dialed up when I happened to catch a glance of myself in a mirror—
You know, those unwary glances you sometimes catch when you haven’t had time to rearrange your face?
Jowls!
Yup. Jowls. Unmistakable! My jawline stayed firm for a loooooong time, but now I can see the undeniable signs of softening and even some—ugh!—crepe neck.
Getting old shouldn’t suck.
So, why does it suck?
###
Lois Lane got back in touch this morning. No, she’s not suicidally depressed: She’s angry!
Good! thought I. Psychologically healthy response.
She thinks ageism is behind the lay-off. I myself have no idea if that’s true. Though certain people at the job had recently begun to ask her, So if you’re X years old, how come you’re only an executive assistant?
There was one red flag for me a few months back when we were talking about stuff she does at work: She’d been put in charge of arranging some sort of event, and she overspent her budget by 50%.
Red alert!
Does she not realize that tasks like this are assigned to see if she can bring the event in at 50% under budget? I wondered.
But whatevs. They knew she was relatively inexperienced when they hired her. They should have trained her better.
###
Anyway, I continued massively panicked throughout most of yesterday.
Lois Lane might find another job. But also, she might not—or at least, she might not find one that pays as well as that last job.
I am gonna have to activate Plans B, C, & D. When all I really want to do is ingest massive quantities of cannabis gummies, crawl back into bed, and watch endless episodes of The Real Housewives of the Quaint & Scenic Hudson Valley.
###
For shit & giggles while I was still panicking, I read a bunch of Reddit forums in which Millennials detailed their housemate experiences with aging Boomers: They’re all lonely! Every time you open the front door, they’ll come out and force you to engage in pointless conversation. They want to tell you all about how things were so much better when THEY were your age.
Where’s my gun? I want to shoot myself right now.
Oh, right! I don’t have a gun.
###
Well, think on the bright side, I told myself. This opens up your geographical possibilities again. Like maybe you can move back to California.
Interestingly, Berkeley home share situations are in the same price range as Hudson Valley home share situations—and significantly less expensive than Santa Cruz home share situations.
Also, in Berkeley—in fact, throughout most of California—people in my age bracket are not looked upon as a hideous aberration of nature, a ne plus ultra Elephant Man, for living in non-familial shared housing situations.
While I was looking through home share situations in various places in California where I might want to live, I decided to check poverty line statistics—and whaddiya know: Thanks to inflation, my average annual income—retirement $ plus self-employment—now straddles California’s poverty line.
My income is still well above New York’s poverty line, though. Here, at least, I still remain middle-class!
###
In the evening, I ran into L in the kitchen who told me she was thinking of giving up the house.
“I figured,” I said. “I’m planning to move in the spring or early summer. Will you get a condo? It would probably be easier for you to live in a place that didn’t have stairs.”
“Maybe I won’t move,” she said. “But I think I don’t want to rent out the house anymore.”
I looked at her then—really looked at her—for the first time in months. She looked frail. Her indefatigable energy seems to have dissipated.
“Can you really live here all by yourself?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said. “Look at my Christmas tree! Isn’t it pretty? I hate to take it down.”
I realized then that Epiphany, the 12th day of Christmas, had come and gone without the annual visit from her son & his family. That was what she traditionally kept her tree up for. So her son’s kids could play Find the pickle ornament. Not that they ever did.
Her son visited her exactly once for five minutes when she had her knee surgery. I actually timed the visit! He hadn’t been here in three years before that.
One visit a year on Epiphany…
Suspended in 2020, 2021, & 2022 due to COVID.
I don’t know what the excuse was for 2023 & 2024.
Her children really don’t seem to like her very much.
###
“But Linda,” I said. “How can you live by yourself in this house? What if something happens, & you need help? What if you fall?”
She’s very unsteady on her feet.
“I have very good neighbors,” she said, gesturing airily across the road toward where Ed & Pat live. “They’ll check in on me.”
Looking at her, I conjectured that maybe Linda was one of those people who’s so bonded with a house that she’d die if she moved. And that some part of her knew that.
This happens from time to time with elderly people who leave their longtime homes. Often it happens when elderly people move into assisted living situations.
Looking at Linda, I also realized, She doesn’t seem healthy. Something is going on with her health-wise. I wonder if she's aware of that?
But, I mean—-of course, something is going on with her health-wise: That thing a few months back must have been a mini-stroke.
And there will be more mini-strokes. Maybe there have already been more mini-strokes.
Anyway, not my concern, right?
Which is a good thing ‘cause right now, I need all my concern & compassion for me.
Same view. Different day:
Shortly after scribbling that last entry, Lois Lane texted to tell me she’d just been laid off.
Radio silence when I followed up with sympathy. (Oh, NO! You WILL get through this, it's a terrible disappointment, I know, I know, but you are a bright shining star, & I KNOW things will be okay. Etc etc etc)
But her announcement pushed me back into full panic mode viz the whole finding-a-new-place-to-live deal ‘cause if Lois Lane isn’t working, can she afford to be in a fabulous, Utopian collective habitation with me?
Panic was dialed up when I happened to catch a glance of myself in a mirror—
You know, those unwary glances you sometimes catch when you haven’t had time to rearrange your face?
Jowls!
Yup. Jowls. Unmistakable! My jawline stayed firm for a loooooong time, but now I can see the undeniable signs of softening and even some—ugh!—crepe neck.
Getting old shouldn’t suck.
So, why does it suck?
###
Lois Lane got back in touch this morning. No, she’s not suicidally depressed: She’s angry!
Good! thought I. Psychologically healthy response.
She thinks ageism is behind the lay-off. I myself have no idea if that’s true. Though certain people at the job had recently begun to ask her, So if you’re X years old, how come you’re only an executive assistant?
There was one red flag for me a few months back when we were talking about stuff she does at work: She’d been put in charge of arranging some sort of event, and she overspent her budget by 50%.
Red alert!
Does she not realize that tasks like this are assigned to see if she can bring the event in at 50% under budget? I wondered.
But whatevs. They knew she was relatively inexperienced when they hired her. They should have trained her better.
###
Anyway, I continued massively panicked throughout most of yesterday.
Lois Lane might find another job. But also, she might not—or at least, she might not find one that pays as well as that last job.
I am gonna have to activate Plans B, C, & D. When all I really want to do is ingest massive quantities of cannabis gummies, crawl back into bed, and watch endless episodes of The Real Housewives of the Quaint & Scenic Hudson Valley.
###
For shit & giggles while I was still panicking, I read a bunch of Reddit forums in which Millennials detailed their housemate experiences with aging Boomers: They’re all lonely! Every time you open the front door, they’ll come out and force you to engage in pointless conversation. They want to tell you all about how things were so much better when THEY were your age.
Where’s my gun? I want to shoot myself right now.
Oh, right! I don’t have a gun.
###
Well, think on the bright side, I told myself. This opens up your geographical possibilities again. Like maybe you can move back to California.
Interestingly, Berkeley home share situations are in the same price range as Hudson Valley home share situations—and significantly less expensive than Santa Cruz home share situations.
Also, in Berkeley—in fact, throughout most of California—people in my age bracket are not looked upon as a hideous aberration of nature, a ne plus ultra Elephant Man, for living in non-familial shared housing situations.
While I was looking through home share situations in various places in California where I might want to live, I decided to check poverty line statistics—and whaddiya know: Thanks to inflation, my average annual income—retirement $ plus self-employment—now straddles California’s poverty line.
My income is still well above New York’s poverty line, though. Here, at least, I still remain middle-class!
###
In the evening, I ran into L in the kitchen who told me she was thinking of giving up the house.
“I figured,” I said. “I’m planning to move in the spring or early summer. Will you get a condo? It would probably be easier for you to live in a place that didn’t have stairs.”
“Maybe I won’t move,” she said. “But I think I don’t want to rent out the house anymore.”
I looked at her then—really looked at her—for the first time in months. She looked frail. Her indefatigable energy seems to have dissipated.
“Can you really live here all by yourself?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said. “Look at my Christmas tree! Isn’t it pretty? I hate to take it down.”
I realized then that Epiphany, the 12th day of Christmas, had come and gone without the annual visit from her son & his family. That was what she traditionally kept her tree up for. So her son’s kids could play Find the pickle ornament. Not that they ever did.
Her son visited her exactly once for five minutes when she had her knee surgery. I actually timed the visit! He hadn’t been here in three years before that.
One visit a year on Epiphany…
Suspended in 2020, 2021, & 2022 due to COVID.
I don’t know what the excuse was for 2023 & 2024.
Her children really don’t seem to like her very much.
###
“But Linda,” I said. “How can you live by yourself in this house? What if something happens, & you need help? What if you fall?”
She’s very unsteady on her feet.
“I have very good neighbors,” she said, gesturing airily across the road toward where Ed & Pat live. “They’ll check in on me.”
Looking at her, I conjectured that maybe Linda was one of those people who’s so bonded with a house that she’d die if she moved. And that some part of her knew that.
This happens from time to time with elderly people who leave their longtime homes. Often it happens when elderly people move into assisted living situations.
Looking at Linda, I also realized, She doesn’t seem healthy. Something is going on with her health-wise. I wonder if she's aware of that?
But, I mean—-of course, something is going on with her health-wise: That thing a few months back must have been a mini-stroke.
And there will be more mini-strokes. Maybe there have already been more mini-strokes.
Anyway, not my concern, right?
Which is a good thing ‘cause right now, I need all my concern & compassion for me.
no subject
Date: 2024-01-09 04:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-01-09 04:39 pm (UTC)But I think it's gonna take at least until spring for me to find a new place.
no subject
Date: 2024-01-09 06:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-01-09 07:11 pm (UTC)But, yeah. In general, she is not a particularly generous or giving human being.
I am thinking this may be one of the reasons why her kids don't seem to like her.
no subject
Date: 2024-01-09 09:12 pm (UTC)Best of luck to you to find somewhere safe and affordable that just also happens to have a lovely area to visually admire.
no subject
Date: 2024-01-09 09:35 pm (UTC)However, as I noted to
Thanks for your good wishes. I appreciate them.
no subject
Date: 2024-01-10 02:04 pm (UTC)Shared accomodation with Millenials sounds like an entertaining experience. So many seem to find themselves passed over; the Silent Generation got the heroes, the Boomers got the money, Gen X got all the canned goods stored in their bunkers, and Z/Alpha got the pronouns. Tragic really.
I hope you find somewhere appropriate very soon.
no subject
Date: 2024-01-10 02:18 pm (UTC)I won't be able to move until spring. Everything I'm doing now is prep work.