Let’s re-introduce myself to you,
No trouble that I’m in,
No way that I can’t win,
And a good man I will be,
Once I learn it’s not all about me.
I am incapable of processing all the good things that have happened to me in the past year. I don’t know what to do with myself. Thursday was the culmination of that – getting that news about my bonus and for the first time, needing someone else to tell me what to do with my money. MY MONEY. MONEY THAT IS MINE.
I know that money doesn’t buy happiness. I know that. But let me tell you, to all the people who have had money and never had to struggle, to the people who have never had to go to a relative and borrow money, to all the people who have never woken up in the morning and wondered if today they should buy bread or gas… Money makes a pretty damn big difference in your everyday happiness… No, not happiness. In your ability to cope.
Good news has been falling from the sky for me lately. T. has told the People that she’s moving back to Canada. Okay, so she’s not here yet, but she’s told the People. That matters.
I got other good news from another friend. I can’t discuss it, but I’m happy.
I got my bonus.
I scheduled my first mechanic appointment by myself (being married into The Ex’s family, this is a much bigger deal than you think).
I’ve rounded up and rounded out all my financial information, all my benefits, everything. (Knowledge is power).
I increased my payroll contributions to my RRSP. Because I can.
I have a car loan in my own name. MY name. Just me.
I was let go at work, and kept on in the same day. At the same salary. Pretty damned hot. And then I got a second job, where they gave me a key in less than three months. Also pretty damned hot.
And then today, I go out with Mom. We go to the bazaar at Grandma’s church. Up to Pretty’s craft show, where I bought these things you put in your shoes, and they keep your shoes from smelling? Tres cool. And then lunch with Creep and the g/f (and I got the news that Creep and the g/f are NOT spending Xmas together, which means I do not have to listen to variations of, “I’m bored” and “Jackie did this” and “My mom said that” and “Remember that time, with that guy? for six hours).
And I came home and had a nap. A good one. I wake up, wander around slightly lost. It’s raining cats and dogs outside, though, and it’s colder than a witch’s tit, as my father would say. I decide to watch Grey’s. This is a long process, as I only have the Lite cable package and the episodes take a while to download. So I’m also reading Facebook, CNN, and updating myself on the activities of the KKK. That’s a completely repugnant task, but it’s sort of like watching a train wreck – you simply can’t help it. And the fact that the PO Box for the KKK is in Arkansas seriously makes me want to vomit.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah. So I stop watching Grey’s long enough for another five minutes’ worth of video to download, and I head back to FB. Guess who wants to add me as a friend? Guess who was thinking about me on a Saturday? Guess who looked me up on FB? Guess who’s THREE YEARS younger than me? OMG! I called Pretty right away, I simply couldn’t contain myself. And as the excellent friend she is, she said “OH MY GOD!” at the top of her lungs as many times as I did. K. K. did! K.! It could mean nothing. It probably does. But this isn’t… Hell. FB isn’t hell. It’s the opposite thereof. That’s friendship territory.
