This life thing everyone keeps telling me I am supposed to have, it isn’t working out for me. Folks say adulating is hard, they say that you are supposed to stand up for what you believe in and that you should get an education — I do stand up for what I believe in and I did get an education. Honestly I think that makes adulating harder.
I got fired from the yoga store last week cause the yoga lady told me that strippers dancing on bourbon is the reason we have so many shootings. When I asked her to clarify it became obvious that she was regurgitating the noise of broken windows. She dug herself in deeper as she tried to justify her bigotry, then she told me I needed to stay away from the yoga store.
I have a fancy degree, but if I can’t keep my mouth shut about the things I believe in I can’t hold a job to save my ass.
The question about what I do for a living is driving me crazy currently. The city of vice I have made my home has decide that it no longer wants my kind living here. But I don’t have anywhere to go. I tried to teach yoga but I can’t spend my time talking about enlightenment with a bunch of folks who think they are more likely to go to heaven because they are wealthy. I tried teaching public school, I couldn’t afford to eat nor could I cheat on the tests like I was asked to do by the administration. I really like sex work. I am good at it. Not the part of sex work that fits the public image, but the more refined subdue elements of sex work. But none of that matters now because I am currently living in a state of complete and total fucking terror about how I am going to make it through the next 24 hours. And it has been like this for months.
Every day some fresh new drama that could leave me homeless and destitute presents itself as a reason to hustle and try to get money. I have not been making any money and the less money I have the more I need money yesterday. When I get money I need to use it to save myself from certain doom. I can’t just go out and have a nice afternoon, I need to smile and flirt and try to figure out how to make money at every opportunity. Cause zombies.
I have been trying to reduce my overhead, but my life is so tangled that I can’t. I want to get a roommate but my house is in terrible shape. I had to fix the toilet, so I did. After I fixed my toilet my refrigerator died. I am now running a power cord from my bathroom to the building next door so I can use a fridge in the empty apartment over there.
I have been almost done refinishing my floors for over a year. They could get done if they were the main priority but the power company is going to turn me off tomorrow. The power was scheduled to be disconnected Thursday but I stalled them until Monday and they will shut me off if I don’t give them $500 before they open at 8am. Naturally I spent my weekend trying to make money, not doing my floors.
You ask how my bill got to be $500 — its the first bill, but my house isn’t legally listed the way it is supposed to be listed so I had to bribe them with a $300 deposit to turn me on. So the bill is $200 but without the deposit it’s lights out. I don’t know why the bill is $200. I live alone in a house with no heat. I turn the lights off, shit half the house does not even have working electricity. And that is a totally separate problem that can’t even begin to take priority in the world of problems that feel like zombies are chasing me.
How the hell can I find a roommate who can pay half of my super high rent for a place that has no power, a sometimes working toilet, and a fridge that is next door? Would you pay a grand a month to share this strange domicile with me? That’s half. The total rent is two thousand dollars a month. Please don’t tell me to move. It involves having to hire someone with hydraulic equipment. It is cheaper for me to stay here. Really.
In November the power was out for 23 days. I don’t have the emotional capacity to have the power shut off again. I’m so exhausted. I don’t know anything about how to get a decent job working for someone else. I can’t be a stripper anymore. My knee is mostly better but now the clubs are being raided and shut down. I have no idea what I am going to do.
I’m putting up ads, trying to rent my space for Mardi Gras, but that has it’s own dead end with the city having passed a permit law and craigslist generating only check scams from the ads I have posted. I tried finding a sugar daddy, but that is what every stripper in town is doing and if it had worked I would probably be entertaining my new benefactor not updating my blog.
Sometimes I wonder if I know how to write captivating stories about things that are not a mess of suffering. I wonder if I create drama to make for a good story or if I use the medium of story telling as therapy from the drama. I don’t have time to get all extential. I need to find $500 before the sun comes up. I’m starting to think I might not. I’m starting to wonder if I will ever be able to maintain an adult life long enough to work on my art at all.