Know what I'm sick of?
I'm sick of recession.
You?
You sick of the Great Recession?
I'm so freakin' tired of talking and thinking about wealth disparity, and hardship, and how to help the city or region I live in.
Good grief.
I'm tired of thinking about money.
I'm tired of being outraged about this thing or that thing.
I'm tired of constantly calculating in my mind the amount I need to pay mortgage in how may days, and I'm sick of looking at avocados, delicious delicious avocados, in the grocery store and thinking that the price isn't justifiable and feeling bad for picking one up and then circling back around to put it back, or that fresh bell peppers need to be set aside at the check-out because I can't shell out $5 for a couple of bell peppers. Five bucks! For bell peppers! What's up with that?
I'm sick of telling myself that next month or next year is going to be better, and I'm sick of looking at my local job options compared to my current small amount from contracting and realizing that at minimum wage, mostly the only wage offered, I'd be losing money once taking the kids to daycare and my inability to cut firewood or load the fireplace during the day for winter heat is taken into account.
I'm sick of being behind on health insurance bills and constantly brushing up against losing it, and I'm sick of watching the cost jump by 40% to 80% at a time.
I'm sick of hearing about new and fantastic technologies and cars and computers coming out that are so frickin' awesome, like the iPad, and something I don't get to have, and I'm sick of having tshirts with holes in them and feeling guilty about buying a new damn Tee shirt or a pair of jeans.
AND...you know what else I'm sick of? My C key. This stupid sticking C key that I had to glue back on and the empty spaces on my keyboard where I canibalized button parts to fix other keys on my keyboard, and my broken touch pad so I have a mouse constantly connected to my laptop which now functions like a desktop.
Also! Yeah, I'm not through, I'm so freakin' tired of watching the mileage on my '98 Ford Escort go up and feeling my mouth go dry and my heart stop when the engine skips a beat or starts hard on a cold winter morning.
I'm so sick of the stupid, irritating, jerks who pretend to offer jobs but turn out to be temp agencies on Monster.com.
And you know what? I'm sick of canning cheap vegetables to hunker down in case there's nothing else. Well...I'd probably still do that anyway. But I'm sick of feeling like that's something I gotta do.
And I'm sick of feeling like if maybe I was somehow doing or being something different or maybe if I was smarter or more focused or maybe if I had zigged rather than zagged and taken a left turn at Albuquerque things would be different.
I'm very, very tired of this recession.
Sheesh.
I'm very tired of it.
Are you tired of it?
I'm tired of it.
I'm very tired of it.
Are you very tired of it?
I am.
I mean, it's not just, like, days or weeks, or months. It's freakin' years, man. Years and years and years.
It's annoying.