Started out with a conversation with my son about what’s going on for me, what’s going on for him and that erupted in tears.
Conversation got better, I cried more, things got … resolved? I dunno – things got talked about, but he’s very much like me; he likes to argue semantics.
Received a couple phone calls about finances. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.
Things are not stable financially – I hate it. I apparently haven’t been paying any attention to finances – and it’s caught up to me. I’m playing the “payment arrangements” game. It kinda sucks. I’m looking at what I can cut, but really – I need more income.
And then income was cut… or rather, distribution was changed, which leaves me in a $900 deficit this month. I’ll get some of that back in mid-Feb… but hey… it’s JANUARY. My JANUARY bills are due. And no one told me this would happen so I did not plan for it.
So I’ve either been crying or on the verge of tears all. freaking. day.
I want to curl up somewhere and go to sleep for several hours.
I want January to be over. I’m done with being 38. I want to be 39. 39 will be a better year. I know it will.
The number 39 represents “the organization and the solidarity of the Cosmos, being expressed by the harmony of the relations between the parts – 3 + 9 = 12. As triple thirteen, it is the individual initiative, nonfortuitous, but organized and harmonized”.
Yeah. That’s the stuff. 39 will be awesome.
I just have to get through 38. Only 5 days left.