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Ninety Days Notice
Jun. 18th, 2013 04:58 amCassandra and Allan have asked me to move out. They did it in the nicest way possible, and have given me until September to find a place, which I should be able to do.
I understand it actually – C is cash-strapped, I haven't been contributing one-third toward the maintenance and upkeep of the household, C is not a cat lover. Also, our personalities don't really mesh all that well, so she feels taken advantage of by someone she doesn't actually like all that much. Our styles are completely different; we don't care about the same things. If you're gonna have someone in yr house you don't really mesh with, it really ought to be someone who can pony up large amounts of cash.
Cassandra has been incredibly generous to me this past year, and I'm grateful. At some point, hopefully, I'll be in a position to discharge the karmic debt.
Moving is always a hassle and it does, of course, put considerable urgency on the various money making activities and practical considerations: Gotta deal with the car; gotta deal with the bankruptcy. But then, these are things I need to deal with no matter where I'm living.
The collapse of the business turned me into a non-person in a very real sense. In upstate New York where two-thirds of the population are non-people in an economic sense – on welfare, on disability, alcoholics, meth heads living in rural trailer parks – it didn't matter so much. Here, it does matter and I haven't really been proactive enough in dealing with what I need to deal with. I'm deeply, irremedially ashamed of losing that business, of having been abandoned by my husband; and that shame either translates into torpor or a profound self-loathing. It would be great if I could become an alcoholic; unfortunately, I don't like to drink all that much. It would be great if there were something to cut that edge, but unfortunately there isn't, so I spend a great deal of time actively disliking myself and expecting other people to dislike me too. At some point, that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Plus it makes me actively isolate myself.
I doubled my income in the last two months, and theoretically at least, I could double it again. Need to market myself more aggressively to prospective clients.
Next time this year, I'll be fine financially what with the Time Warner pension, Social Security and what I make writing. At the height of my corporate career, I made a shitload of money so even early Social Security is a tidy amount. I'll be solidly back in the middle class.
I understand it actually – C is cash-strapped, I haven't been contributing one-third toward the maintenance and upkeep of the household, C is not a cat lover. Also, our personalities don't really mesh all that well, so she feels taken advantage of by someone she doesn't actually like all that much. Our styles are completely different; we don't care about the same things. If you're gonna have someone in yr house you don't really mesh with, it really ought to be someone who can pony up large amounts of cash.
Cassandra has been incredibly generous to me this past year, and I'm grateful. At some point, hopefully, I'll be in a position to discharge the karmic debt.
Moving is always a hassle and it does, of course, put considerable urgency on the various money making activities and practical considerations: Gotta deal with the car; gotta deal with the bankruptcy. But then, these are things I need to deal with no matter where I'm living.
The collapse of the business turned me into a non-person in a very real sense. In upstate New York where two-thirds of the population are non-people in an economic sense – on welfare, on disability, alcoholics, meth heads living in rural trailer parks – it didn't matter so much. Here, it does matter and I haven't really been proactive enough in dealing with what I need to deal with. I'm deeply, irremedially ashamed of losing that business, of having been abandoned by my husband; and that shame either translates into torpor or a profound self-loathing. It would be great if I could become an alcoholic; unfortunately, I don't like to drink all that much. It would be great if there were something to cut that edge, but unfortunately there isn't, so I spend a great deal of time actively disliking myself and expecting other people to dislike me too. At some point, that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Plus it makes me actively isolate myself.
I doubled my income in the last two months, and theoretically at least, I could double it again. Need to market myself more aggressively to prospective clients.
Next time this year, I'll be fine financially what with the Time Warner pension, Social Security and what I make writing. At the height of my corporate career, I made a shitload of money so even early Social Security is a tidy amount. I'll be solidly back in the middle class.
