#had a migraine yesterday and the heat pad saved me

[sourtomatola]

I need a dca sun warming bag. Just his face, full of rice that you throw in the microwave to have a hot pad.

Throw a moon ice pack into the mix and we've reached peek fandom

[frogsandfries]

Part two

Or, I Should Be Working on This Second Futon Pad but....

I got run so far off topic by people who think everything is all about them. We got back in here and she kept getting into my space and suddenly she was off bitching and ranting about gawd only knows what the fuck.

I’m getting worked up because I don’t have my license and it’s fucking hard because my dad always has a fucking excuse but now we’re working second shift so there are no excuses for getting a good time at the driving school. Also because I could be making fuck-easy money. Additionally, obviously, it got really hot all of a sudden out of nowhere and I’m not handling it well in conjunction with trying to get my van done.

I’m also tired of fighting upstream against my dad who OBVIOUSLY his shit is more important than mine because his shit comes first and we can take care of mine after I’m done waiting for him to run all the fuck over the place and get nothing done when I just need to go one place and knuckle down.

On that, I have been doing my best to continue working on these futon pad covers where I can/have to. I thought today, even though I was taking a little imaginary break from van stuff, I might start to notch those bench boards.

I think with the bench boards, I’m going to have to wrap them before I put the bench together, since they have to slide past each other. Then again, it might be fine to just do the top and bottom. I’m not sure, apart from making things pretty, when purpose might be served by doing the inner edges?

Like I mentioned, at least once, I wanted to experiment with making an expanding storage box--and that’s where it’s going to be really, really important that the reinforcement actually works, because this box will probably come out to five feet long when it’s extended.

If it works, I’ll do just one more that way. I still want to have the flexibility of slightly smaller containers.

It’s hard to stay, y’know? Literally, in the face of such bottomless, endless, destructive toxicity, it’s hard not to be drawn to brighter horizons. I mean, even if this edibles thing is too good to be true, I’m a pretty good worker. I think I’ll find something on my own. I was thinking about having at least a part-time job, or finally becoming a librarian, saving one paycheck or the other, just in case the edibles thing doesn’t work or stops working. I could invest as well. Plus, I just had one of my friends tell me the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever been told. He was telling me basically between him and his buddy, to make the transition easier, they won’t allow me to struggle at all.

If I hadn’t been kind of meh after yesterday’s migraine (it was threatening to come back, and then I started getting just a heat headache in my opposite temple), I would’ve done the next chunk of the floor. It sucks, but I think I’m going to have to buy a second bundle of this breathable insulation and pawn the rest off on my van.

So in an effort to escape the parasite’s poison, I went downstairs, outside, but the second the sun set, the frickin mosquitoes were on me like flies on fly tape!! I fled in to the pool room, but it wasn’t long before they were there as well! I did do some splashing and grinning like an idiot, but it was just so ridiculously soothing. After like fifteen solid minutes of splashing, I conceded defeat to the mosquitoes.

Oh, then edibles guy.......oh crap, I forgot. Oh wait, lol never mind I remember. He turns and tells me he knows someone, an aunt or grandmother, who’s trying to offload a newly remodeled popup camper and I was like, mmm how much?

Four hundred. New plumbing. YES PLEASE!!! I told him I don’t get paid for another two weeks though, but I didn’t mention I’ll be lucky to have two hundred next paycheck. I would hate to not have the full amount, or to make her wait until the third week if she just wants to be shod of it.... But yo, I kinda want it. It has a shower and cooking space, and gives me a little more space to finish the van just to liveability.

I feel so lame for having so many excuses for not just cracking this van out. It sat midway to started all winter, then it was a really chilly early spring and now it’s roasting.

I’m seriously serious about driving home (or at least to a campground some days) for practice. I’ll do it, I just want to build up my comfort level. I’m sick of the excuses, and I will be terribly, terribly impatient to leave the second I have my license in hand. I only need, by my estimate, two thousand dollars to get motoring. But that’s after the brakes, which--SURPRISE--got put on hold this past week, and then there’s this thing and that thing and the tires thing. Oh, right....fuck....tires..... Well, if I hold onto a hundred from the cash left in my pocket, and a hundred next week, if I can eek it out, or tell this guy to tell the popup owner to hold it three weeks for me and I’ll pay in full. Then I’ll have the money for two tires....get them changed right then.

Fuckin-a........I can’t leave right away anyway..... I just want to cry again....

Or shove everything in a backpack and go. I’ll walk. Or bike. Just get me the hell out of here. It’ll only take two weeks by bike.

I wish.... Go, send for my stuff when I have the money. Fuck, at five hundred a week, I could more than pay my dad in full for the van, and in a couple more weeks, for all the repairs, and a few more after that, for my dad to bring it out and even a bus or train for him to go back. I feel like the guys out west would be far more helpful than dad in getting me behind the wheel. Not to mention, if I picked up a full time job in addition to the side-hustle, I’d be essentially bringing in two paychecks at a time, which would be more than sufficient..... It’s so, so tempting. I could even hop a bus.... I could just throw the whole trip. With the money I could make.... I guess I could wait a couple weeks for the guys to get settled, then tell them I’ve changed my mind, I need them to teach me to drive or get me to a driving school before my fucking temps expire.

Then even if I just bring what I can fit in a backpack or two and not much for cash, I can hit up at least a temp agency, if not a couple places in town. Send my dad a few bucks a week at least to keep him working on the van.... ugh..... two hundred dollars for a bus....anywhere from three days to fifty-odd hours..... Yeah.....let my dad tinker with the van, show him I’m seriously not fucking around....

I could.....I could...... And I think I could still make up the money, turn around and come back for the van. I’d have a place to stay through the summer, I’d have money to put into the van--better than I’d have staying, almost no matter what I do..... Then I could get a jump-start on looking for library jobs.

Then, I guess if the cards align, I could still arrange the road-trip to get my van out west, and pick up my friend’s girlfriend? 

I just can’t keep waiting. I feel like, 1) If I wait too long, I’ll either lose or be tricked out of my resolve and 2) If I don’t say I mean it, and show that I mean it, my dad will assume my resolve is as flimsy as his own.

I am not fucking around in regards to my license, but at the same time, I’ve let him give me weakass excuses for far too long. I’m done.

I was thinking about waiting till August, but.....I’m not even sure I can wait long enough to meet my middle school friend’s daughter.... That’s a whole entire month of this.....horrific heat.... I can’t pass up even the possibility of this kind of money for that long.....

I don’t want to spend this summer struggling or fighting...I don’t want to fight the heat for sleep or progress. I don’t want to struggle for my health or money. Time is money, and if this gig isn’t too good to be true, every week I spend here is money wasted. And if the gig is too good to be true, every week I spend here is still money wasted in the form of my independence, my next step, settling down, and putting my life together once and for all.

Am I being crazy? Has the heat addled my brains?

I don’t need much. I mean, really, what’s a little less, y’know? I stripped off the outer layers to live with my ex, I lost a couple more layers staying with my parents and I was further exposed when I decided to take on the van and put my every last possession into storage.

All I have left are a few shirts, some undergarments, a ratty pair of shoes and a pair of work shoes, my embroidery, my phone, and some cash in the bank. That’s it. What difference would it make to me to get on a bus and leave it behind. I could leave, send my dad the money to get all those fiddly things fixed, have him shove everything into the van and I’ll figure it out when I get the van here. But he would literally shove everything into the van. He wouldn’t sort the rubbish from the donate-able from the sellable from the keep. He doesn’t do that. He just comes behind me and packs it all for me, for later. On the one hand, it seems a little sentimental. On the other, it seems like a passive-aggressive punishment.

Well, at the very least, before I go, I could really, actually finish the floor for real.....