I feel very much like Sabrina, in that movie with Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn… Before she goes to Paris, when she’s hiding in the tree watching the party on the estate and David catches her.
“Oh, it’s you Sabrina. I thought I heard somebody .” David says, on his way to the tennis court with champaign for the pretty blonde with Chase National Bank money.
“No. It’s nobody.”
My self worth is pretty nonexistent these days. My focus since the night of a surprise strawberry smoothie and fantastic sex has been work. Paying the bills. Getting out of the hole I dug for myself with credit cards and sheer youthful stupidity.
I also still have yet to afford a new messenger bag, laptop, and portable phone charger. I’ve since purchased a new journal.. But when I went to get my drawing pen they were out. The replacement I ordered on Amazon got stolen off my porch and I haven’t been able to afford another replacement.
Little pieces of me. Trying to put them back together is exhausting.
I don’t have an office job. I have two jobs that help me pay the rent and bills, but both are rather isolating. I don’t have colleagues. It’s me on my own, working, socializing with people as they pass through my day, and going home to Poe at the end of the night. There is a part of me that wished I had a basic 9-5 office job in a tiny cubical so that I could interact with people…
All of my friends were in the kink scene. And I wasn’t in the headspace to play in public. I haven’t been to a dungeon since Surrender and haven’t heard from the people I was close to since November. I went home for 18 days… I dropped off their planet and haven’t phased back in at all.
I haven’t played. How could I. I haven’t gone to the dungeon.
A friend from that crew has helped me out so much in the past. Without him I wouldn’t have a bed to sleep on. I never would have been able to move into my place. I wouldn’t have made the few connections I did in the community. He has unfortunately fell into some legal trouble along with some health problems and I find myself an outsider looking in, no longer close enough to feel comfortable picking up the phone and calling. I mustered up the courage to send a Fetlife message when I saw him active online. So far it has gone unanswered. My problems pale in comparison to his, and I wish I could do more than just donate to a fund for him.
I miss having friends. Interactions. People around me. I love Poe dearly, and coming home to him every day has helped a lot.. But I’m very close to becoming a crazy cat lady at this point.
And yes. I know I can try things like meetup.com. I can go to munches. Social groups. Make new friends. But all these things cost time and money. I need to make rent. I need to pay bills,.. And looking for such things on a phone instead of a laptop is a pain in the ass.
I tell myself that it will get better. That this is a bad month where I am more on my own than usual. Once I get a little bit into savings, once I’m not living week to week, then I can take the time to socialize. Go out. Have fun.
Once. Someday. Soon. Maybe.
I took off work tonight. Despite my scrambling and scrimping I took off. My landlord texted me Friday night telling me to meet with him Monday at 8. Nevermind that I make the most money from 6-8 at night… I thought I could take off the first part of the evening then maybe go out and work.
Fifteen minutes before we met up he pushed it off till 8:45. Mind you, I’ve been stressing about this meeting for days. After the window incident I’m not taking anything for granted… I kept picturing Poe and I curled up on a pile of blankets on the sidewalk of Haight street (I’m too much of a hippie to be a Market Street bum).
I got a text at 8:40 saying something had come up. He didn’t have time to meet with me. If I was still awake when he came home maybe we could then.
He didn’t have time??? He scheduled the damn thing.
I took off work for this ridiculous meeting wrapped around his schedule. And he doesn’t have time. I could have worked. Given myself some breathing room. This stupid meeting was to discuss what happened when I was gone… Which I had already discussed with his girlfriend and remedied as soon as I returned. Yes, they watched my cat. But they neglected him, gave him fleas, messed with his litter box and got upset when he shit where the box was before, and then complained to me about it. They destroyed my property and I gave them extra money for it. I apologized for it and replaced litter and food.
I have been back for over two weeks now. Why on fucking earth would you have this discussion with me now???
I am invisible. I am nobody. I do not matter. My time does not matter.
Smith talks about the icky voices in females heads from time to time… Mine continually grow louder. A college degree and I’m not qualified for secretarial work. I’m not good enough to work in the office. I failed to merge into the kink community. I gained weight and struggle to see myself as beautiful and desirable.
It will get better. I know a lot of this is in my head. It’s stress compiled with no sleep. With no life. With no stress relief.
I used to be very good at book making.. The last time I actually created a book it was for Cal, long ago and far away. One of my more creative ventures… A leather covered Coptic 2 journal with an exposed binding and chainmail work. I was rather proud of it.
I have sketchbook paper, cardboard for book covers, watercolor kits to fill the pages with… Why aren’t I painting drawing and binding? I don’t have much time but I do have four or so afternoons off a week.. That’s a few hours here and there that I could spend for myself, doing what I used to love.
I love the movie Sabrina… Have loved Audrey since I was a kid. It’s no wonder I’m attracted to older men with how infatuated I was with Humphrey Bogart in this..
I don’t want to be nobody. I can’t afford France right now, to go to Paris and come into my own, so to speak.
Guess I have to figure it out. Me and Poe the cat (as opposed to David the dog).
I need to regain my personal worth somehow.. Because right now I feel like nobody
Yours a work in progress… Becoming somebody.