We've Got Plans for Your Plans in The eye of every storm

Revised: 10/21/2016 11:24 a.m.

  • Oct. 18, 2016, 10 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

It’s been awhile since we’ve talked. Maybe we’re estranged, like exes that never broke up. We just stopped seeing one another, you and I. Honestly, I don’t have a desire to write anymore. This life isn’t turning out like I thought it would- job, house, dog, fence, whole foods, new car. etc. etc. blah blah.

Let’s review The Plan: I was going to move to Dallas, work airline during the day, keep my very small loft downtown on Main street, two blocks from the train, not get a car, stay single, and try to have the freedom to do more hiking trips and things.

Yet.

I’ve a house in the suburbs, and it’s got three bedrooms, four bathrooms, a three car garage with an attached “apartment” I just use as a pool table room. I have two cats and one dog. I bought a MINI Cooper Countryman S, because “that’s what I was supposed to do,” when my public transportation option no longer existed. I also am getting married next April.

Sounds like the American dream right?

Well, out of fucking absolute no where, tomorrow I’m having surgery on my ear. Basically, a growth of some kind on one of the bones in my ear has punctured my ear drum. This has reversed the airflow of my eustachian tube, which is now basically trying its absolute fucking best to rip my eardrum down inside my head.

Sorry I’m cussing.

This is actually surgery no. six this year. I’m fucking. over. it. I had a hole drilled into my god-damned hip, I’ve had two toe nails removed, both twice, because they didn’t grow back properly from my little walk through the woods in 2011, and I have ONE MORE toe surgery that was scheduled tomorrow, but my brain decided it wanted to eat my eardrum, and I guess that’s more pressing.

I am 34 years old. This does not happen to 34 year old people.

unless.

Maybe we should review:

2000-2004: US Army Military Intelligence Analyst, Veteran Operation Enduring Freedom, Operation Iraqi Freedom. (fiancee cheated on my while deployed, came home to nothing- no home, no life, no one).

2005-2008: Started a (successful) punk rock band. Got addicted to coke for years. Lost many jobs, lost my band, and lost one of the sweetest girls I’d ever known.

2008-2011: Kinda just up and moved to Florida after yet another three year relationship went to shit. She cheated. Two weeks later, I had a place in Florida. I played some airline games down there, then started working for my gay roommate, and he just stopped paying me, but started paying for rent and everything- kind of a great way to control someone. Kind of like Slavery.

2011: I said Fuck THIS is one epic meltdown, asked a bunch of my friends for help to literally walk out of Florida. A friend dropped me off in the middle of the woods, and I hiked the Florida National Scenic Trail. After that- I thought I’d just keep fucking going, because why not, it was all I had, and took a bus to Georgia (a friend Robin paid for it), and started hiking through the mountains into several more states.....

BUT. I fell in love with yet another terrible person.

So I applied for a job in Dallas, got, with that rock solid plan of living downtown, remaining single, taking the train....blah blah blah and then I fell in love with the waitress at the mexican restaurant next door, and five years later, we’re getting married and have this whole life thing going.

Now that’s an odd story.

But this surgery thing is really just pissing me off. It’s ridiculous now. When my ear doctor told me that, I honestly just laughed. He said, “Do you want to do the surgery?”

I just said “Why not?”

I guess I’m made out of all this money I NEVER wanted to pay these bills I NEVER wanted. I feel like my entire life has led to me becoming nothing more than a conduit from my bank to doctors to bills to weddings to.....

I don’t know who I am anymore. I lost myself in all this.

For real.


Last updated October 21, 2016


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