Scared soup

I’ve had a strange week or more. I have been a hearty mix of terrified and depressed with a splash of utter detachment thrown in. Zac is not here. He’s mad at me or I am mad at him- I can’t remember which. I just keep thinking, “WHO I AM TRYING TO KID?” Wouldn’t it be easier if I just moved back to the jungle and stopped this whole charade? Being a grown-up comes easily to some. For me it is literally a long tumble UP a steep hill. Makes no sense? Not to me either.

I keep picturing owning an Airstream to match my mother’s. I wonder where I would put mine? Maybe Morro Bay or Mount Shasta? Sounds lovely. Considering I can’t buy a car with bad credit right now and am spending 800$ a month on a renta-car, I highly doubt I’ll find it any easier to accumulate an RV. Or whatever that thing is.
I HATE credit ratings and I HATE the IRS and Avis.
Good Morning Life!
Blow me!

Ok, gratitude. I’ll give you a shot.

Thank you life for providing me an income that allows me to rent a car indefinitely. I am actually proud of myself for keeping all the “bill balls” in the air. Thank you for my gift as a massage therapist- I keep my clients for years and meet new ones all the time. I adore the people in my life here, even the complete neurotic, hypochondria tic ones
(You know who you are). Thanks Mom for offering to help (though you were not accepted by the supposed struggling car companies; your offer meant THE WORLD to me).
I have been meeting with a group of 3 other women on Wednesdays to try to be life coaches for each other. They are gifted and loving and intelligent in totally unique ways. They think I am “amazing”. A word I have had not thrown in my direction for some time. I got called that often when I was in my 20’s. “Amazing” got nudged out and replaced by some other descriptive words I think. I have been defining myself by my fat body lately, remembering the delight and ease ego once bestowed on me. Merely two years ago I frolicked around in tiny jeans and it felt fantastic. Now? I beat myself up constantly and bore my boyfriend to near death with my self- loathing. Whatever it takes to bring me to my spiritual knees I guess; to be a better HUMAN; to share gifts and not just a great ass. That’s the real deal. What do I really have to offer?