My dental work estimate was more than the cost of my car. It is more than my student loan. Apparently I have the dental profile of a street person. The five-digit number I looked at this morning stunned me like a bundle of TNT dropped in a fish pond and I haven't recovered yet.
Stock prices are down. I was ready to sell last Thursday when it was a nice peak and then said, no, I'll wait to see what the CPA says. She gave good advice on choosing stocks to sell which was different than what I'd intended to do. Now, however, the price is down two fucking dollars. The impact on my financial planning is high. But do I wait and hope it moves up again or do I buy now? What if I buy now and it goes up? What if I don't buy now and it keeps going down, down, down? I am making myself sick over this.
I am sore and bloody and hormonal. I am physically depressed. It's clinging to every inch of my skin. It's in my gut. It's a heaviness.
I got another letter from the IRS today. It's probably about that 2001 return they say I didn't turn in. Which I must have, but I can't find any paperwork about it.
My Spike action figure came and it sucks. It's a freakish AU Spike with a face of great wrongness. He and Principal Snyder should be very happy together in that weird universe where Spike actually looks like this.
Of the good:
June 7 I begin my leave of absence.
The CPA said she could do that 2001 filing for me.
I'm not actually a street person.
I have a car. And that better keep being a good thing because if it doesn't, I'm going to drive it right back to the dealer, through the plate-glass window, and use it to smash his face in. I don't have any reason to think there's something wrong with it. I just like to state my intentions, should something go wrong. Because apparently I am Woody Allen crossed with a brooding Billy Crystal crossed with a jowly, dour bulldog crossed with a freak.
All sorts of other things that I should list to remind myself life is good, except it doesn't feel that way.