There's Only One Acceptable Reason To Hide Under The Covers, And This Ain't It

Yes, I'm still alive, but spending a lot of time trying to catch up on the sleep I missed last week.

Money is extremely tight - worryingly tight - and that always makes me want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head. I do have to go see the bank manager sometime this week, though, and make an appointment with my financial consultant to figure out how to pay off the overdraft. Because at the rate they're taking it from me, even if I put all my wages into the account and spend nothing on anything other than basic groceries - which is what I've been doing for the last month - the reserve fees are so punitive that the debt still gets larger. They're actually taking more from me in overdraft fines than I'm earning at work, the scoundrels. So I need to find out if I can get a short-term loan where fixed interest rates are calculated into the monthly payment, or a (horrified gasp) credit card, or what. Jaz will know, I just have to stop being an ostrich and go see her.

(Ja, I know ostriches don't really bury their heads in the sand...it's just one of those images that's hard to break.)

Of course I'm having panicky nightmares of having to declare bankruptcy, and having the bank steal my car and clothes and shoes. You hear stories about people who borrow fifty quid from a moneylender and end up £15,000 in debt even though they didn't borrow any more money, because the print on your contract that you need an electron microscope to read said that you're willing to pay 4000% interest. Compounded weekly. And if you don't, we'll repossess your babies and sell them to Madonna, and break your kneecaps so we can collect on the insurance.

Um, did I mention in the last couple of months that I've been overreacting? To everything? I think it must be hormones, or lack of sleep, or something. Every minor mishap feels like a crisis. (Actual crises I deal with just fine, but that's just how I roll. I usually work better under pressure. Except for the times that I retreat and ignore the world.)

Curt went to Jersey a couple days ago. And there were promptly six murders on the island. An island with basically zero violent crime. I swear, that guy has the worst timing in the world. It doesn't appear to be anything to do with him, but somehow he always manages to be around when things go to hell. So of course when he gets back, I imagine I'll demand a visit and frantically examine him for bullet holes - even though the news reports say that all the victims were Polish, and I don't think anyone could mistake a tall skinny black guy with a very proper British accent for a Pole from Jersey.

I have to sign up for college this week, if I can get the money. I don't even know that I want to go this year. Right now I'm so tired I don't want to do anything. But if I don't, then I'm not moving forward with life, and life isn't going to get better unless I have more money, and that means work, and THAT means education. I'm totally unemployable right now. Your self-esteem has to take a bit of a hit when you're so unwanted in the workplace that you can't even get a job in Wilkinson or McDonalds.

I know. I've tried.

Plus, there's Kurisu-San. I miss him. Like, a LOT. If he doesn't sign up for school then I don't know that I'll have the heart to continue - oh, I'll probably do it, I'll just feel weird - but if I don't sign up, then I definitely won't get to see him. So I suppose I have to take my chance. He still isn't answering texts from me, and with any other man that would be a warning to stay away, but this one is different; he thinks differently to other people I know - and I think that if I can talk to him in person, things will be okay.

I know some of you will feel duty-bound to give me your opinions on this, but all I can say is: you don't know him.

Of course, he may tell me to leave him alone. I'd be surprised if he did, but he might. Even that would be better, though. I don't like silence, I like to know what's going on. If I've caused offense, I like to know why, so I can either try to make amends, or at least consider changing my behavior in the future. And if I just knew that he was OK, then I could get rid of this sick feeling of dread that I sometimes get when I think of him.

And the only things I can imagine are that either I've offended him, or there's something wrong with him that makes him feel like he can't talk to me. Logically, there must be something wrong, yeah? For a guy to be happy and open and friendly with you at night, and cheerfully planning to come and see you in the morning, and then totally block you from his life in the afternoon - something must have happened. I just need to find out what. And I imagine I WILL ferret it out sooner or later; I'm not a person who can let things like that lie.

But Lord, I miss him. It seems so strange, to miss a person so much when you haven't actually seen them in a year or more. I don't remember going this long without talking to him, though. Oh, there probably was a period this long, but I don't remember it. I think it's only been about four months, but it seems like forever. I think maybe that's one reason I've been so crabby over the last few months. Every time something goes wrong, whether it's a major crisis or just a stupid little thing, I think, I wish I could talk to K. K always makes me feel better. And when I have nightmares about him, which I often do - ones where he's really sad - I think, I wish I could talk to K. K always says that I make him feel better.

I have friends and family, of course, and Curt, and I even talked to my ex the other day - but one person is no substitute for another.

Well, this note has certainly taken a depressing turn.

Hopefully autumn will come soon. That, or some nice hot August days. Either way I hope we'll get some dry weather. I always feel like shit when it's damp outside.