Don’t say I didn’t warn you…


My patience is coming to an end. When I have to choose whether or not to make a call about a low-wage personal assistant gig that I’m in no way guaranteed, I know somethings wrong. I’m in such dire shape that I feel like I have to stay at my current job, losing money, but not hemmoraging it, until I find something more suitable to me and also more permanent. Its quite a pickle, even if its a stupid problem to have. Really, before changing jobs, I have to consider consolidating debt, because the various payments are higher individually than they’d be together, and having it all in one place (and not spread between various Cards and my mom) would be a better feeling. The problem is that its pointless to consolidate it unless I can get it all, and getting it all is nearly impossible, because its tens of thousands of dollars.

Annoying. But worth it, honestly, because, while I wouldn’t have that debt if i lived a more normal life, I also wouldn’t have had the freedom to travel and enjoy my life the way that I did. Most people’s phase of wanton responsibility ends with college (if it ever begins at all), and mine has yet to end. Travel, time off, weird sleep schedules, all mine, although they’re low-rent versions compared to the things that my friends are now beginning to be able to afford. In that respect, I feel a little like the grasshopper to the ant, playing my time away while I should be preparing. That said, its the playing that defines the things that well remember, not the working, so Ill just have that much more to remember than most. Considering this for the first time, really, I begin to think (although I’m not convinced) that it may be a bad idea to tax my already-addled brain with more things to recall. I cant do names as it is, and since I’m already having intermittent trouble with nouns (anyone who knows me well will remember a period of time where I couldn’t put together a sentence without failing to produce at least one of its nouns) and I don’t want that to spread to adjectives, the sweet, sticky, variegated, passionate, not-too-zesty-but-still-a-bit-dangerous sauces that flavor our glorious language. Verbs, either. Don’t want to lose verbs. Replacing all nouns with a generic “hootinanny” works better than replacing all verbs with a misconjugated version of the word “run,” for example. It could be any noun (“fornicate,” “skitter,” anything), but I think I’m unlikely to forget “run” anytime soon. Wishing someone good luck on a show (“run a leg”) or explaining a great shot in last nights polo championship (“…so then Bergnetti run around the last defender, run the ball to Sanchez, who run with a great overarm into the corner. I really run those guys are going to run the world championships in Bennin next month, don’t you?”) would get awful awkward. Awful stupid sounding, too. At least “hootinanny” tends to make people laugh sometimes. The people worth talking to laugh, anyway. Or suggest alternatives (“couldn’t you have said “shindig” there? No, only “hootinanny” will do to replace every single lost noun in my mind, thank you very much”), although I’m a little hard to convince that there might be some alternative.

Okay, that was weird. I just got off the NJT in Trenton to learn that the next Septa train out to 30th Street was at 6:49am. That was King Suck. I thought I wasnt going to be able to make it home, but then I made the snap decision to take Amtrak, and pay the $27. Lots of money, this time, worth it 100%. Usually I dont care one bit whether I wait for trains, planes, whatever, but Trenton is a crappy station to wait in, and Im tired as shit all ready. If I hadnt been sleeping so abysmally over the last few days, I may have waited it out, even if it was just for the sheer hardcore-ness of the wait. The money, as you may have gathered from my rant above, is very important to me, and my priorities are all screwy (dinner, drinking, easily 3x the cost of getting home to a bed before Saturday night, but 10x as easy to spend somehow), but this night, all the circumstances aligned to bring me to the decision I made.

I can hardly think of anything that youd care about less, yet Im not at all ashamed of posting this rant, mostly because Im sitting on a train alone, sitting with some asshole behind me who wont stop talking about the NJ Governor, and a girl in front of me, curled up, trying to sleep. Were stopped now, though, and Im beginning to think that Im never getting home. The train ran something over (?!?) a minute ago and now were stopped, waiting, not moving. And Emily is on her way to 30th Street (after my third call to her with conflicting information). For some reason, I feel like Im the butt of a long, boring, exhausting inside joke, the details of which Im not informed.

Its mechanical damage. Im going to stop these minute-by-minute updates, because its going to be awhile while they figure out how to get us going again. It may be a long while.

So it was a person that we hit. I still cant get online to see if anything has made the news yet (where the hell are all these so-called wifi hotspots?), but yeah, it sort of changes your perspective in the middle of the night when youre stuck on a train, trying everything in your power to get home and what you heard that sounded like branches being hit and dragged was made, at least partially, by a person meeting that fate. Weird. I kept wondering how the little kids would take it, but they seemed pretty much fine. Maybe they didnt get it – I mean, I know they didnt Get It, but I feel like mostly, little kids are really full of tough questions that no one would have had an answer for, exactly. But whatever.

Next train out of Philly is 7:30. Thats two hours from now. Weak. Im off to eat a Dunkin Donut (yes, there are at least a few advantages to being on the east coast, despite its problems with trains) and go old-fashioned war-walking. Theres gotta be an open wireless hotspot somewhere in this godforsaken station – its 2004, people!