Dearest Charlie,
Yesterday, I was invited to go with some of my new co-workers to Niagara Falls. At first, I was excited. Then I came to my senses. Two reasons.
One - I really need to stay focused on finding a place to live while I’m up here. And two—my knee is not cooperating. My joints are all inflamed, and the only thing I can blame is my current gourmet diet of ham sandwiches, chips, and soft drinks… with a splash of water so I can pretend I’m making good choices.
It’s showing up - In my joints. In my skin. Probably in my attitude too.
Once I get into my own place, I plan to return to eating like a civilized human being.
Until then… survival mode.
Now - even though I nixed the Niagara trip, I did manage to get out for a bit. I was driving around, turned down a road just to see where it went, and ended up at Rushford (Caneadea) Dam Park. It was a nice little spot. I got out and walked… well, okay - limped… around for a few minutes and just relaxed. Nothing fancy. Just quiet. But I needed that.
In other news…
S and J are done. I’m sad for her… and not so sad for him. Honestly, I’m a little surprised it took this long for him to show his colors. She’s had her struggles, but she has worked hard—really hard—to get where she is.
He’s been emotionally supportive, I’ll give him that. But the minute he got a good job out of town, I guess he thought he could act a fool and not get caught. He forgot who he was dealing with. She’s got receipts.
Now she’s got to move forward, and I hate that I’m not there to help her through it. But she’s strong. She’ll figure it out.
Then there’s your baby… MJ2. Still in Oregon with her boyfriend. They’ve been there two months now, and he still hasn’t found a job. Every time I talk to her, they’re donating plasma to get by.
That does not sit well with me.
She picked up a little job at Popeye’s, but it’s not enough to carry both of them. He needs to step up and start pulling his weight instead of letting her do it.
Mama is not impressed.
As for me…
I spent today running all over the place apartment hunting.
Last week, I looked at a little two-bedroom above a couple’s house on their farm. It definitely smells like country… and not the “fresh air and wildflowers” kind either. But—it’s only 20 minutes from work and $1,200 a month, so suddenly I’m a lot more open-minded. I tried to find something more private, but good luck with that. Even campers in campgrounds are running around $2,200 a month. For a camper. I don’t even want to know what comes with that price.
So… I called the farm lady back and told her I’d take it. Only catch - it won’t be available until April 22. Which brings me to my current situation… I am back at the original hotel. But this time, I made friends. I talked to the manager, he called the owner, and they cut me a deal - $50 a night until my place is ready.
Now that… I can work with. So here I am. Roof over my head. Hot shower. TV. Soft bed. Washer and dryer. Honestly, I’ve had worse.
This whole work adventure hasn’t quite gone the way I imagined, but I’m adjusting. Improvising. Making it work. That seems to be my specialty these days.
Hopefully, once I get settled, I can start putting some money aside—maybe work toward another vehicle… maybe even a camper of my own one day.
(One that doesn’t cost $2,200 a month.)
I sure do wish you were here with me. You’d have a lot to say about all this.
I miss you.
I love you… muchly.
Me
No comments:
Post a Comment