Excited

I just ended a stint as a substitute teacher at a daycare. It was fun, sitting and playing legos all day with 2-year-olds. One of the teachers in the class was this statuesque 24-year-old babe that just graduated from college. I noticed that she kept her phone close to her, chronically checking it for something. Oh, how I remember the chronic cellphone check.
"I think she is excited, waiting on a guy to text her," I told Bells over a nice Mexican dinner. She was in town visiting her sister.
"Oh, I remember that," Bells said, nostalgically.
Watching Babe Teacher hold on to her phone for dear life, I realized that it has been a long time since I have been excited about a guy. There was that crush I had on that guy in my writing group, but that fuzzed out. I do believe that I have finally run out of excited-about-a-guy juice. I go on and on about how much I would love a man hug, but truth be told, I am not looking for anyone and I am sure that no one is looking for me.
But it is nice to be excited about a guy, waiting on his text, thinking of witty responses to whatever it is that he is going to say. When I am looking at my phone these days, it is just to check what time it is.
Right now, I'm more excited about the day that I finally get up the energy to defer my student loans and work on my credit. At 34, I can see 40 clear from here, and if I don't get my coin in order, I will be living in a cardboard box under the freeway. My good friends will come visit me every Sunday to bring me canned goods and baby wipes.
One day, I do hope to get excited about a man again, but for now, I have to find joy in writing disputes to TransUnion over what is on my credit karma report. Yay!

Stress Forgetfulness

I suffer from stress forgetfulness. I don't know if this is a real thing that doctors recognize, but I have noticed it about myself and have given it a name.
Due to my recent bout of stress and anxiety, I forgot to take down my two-strand twists for a week and a half. Not. Good. I spent all of this morning detangling my hair. I am sure that if I would have waited another day, I would have dreadlocks.
There is a very important bill that I have to pay. It was due on the 10th, and I have been walking around with the envelope and money order in my purse since before then.
The worst thing that my stress forgetfulness has caused me to do is forget to call my student loan provider to let them know, AGAIN, that I am broke and unable to make payments. But it's okay. They called Transunion who then called Credit Carma who then emailed me and let me know that, as punishment for not returning that stream of endless calls, my score has dropped. I'M PISSED! I had just gotten to Needs Work! I'm now at Needs A Life Line.
I wish I could just stand at the top of the highest mountain and yell, "HEY! I HAVE BEEN GOING THROUGH SOME TOUGH STUFF! STUFF SO HORRIFYING THAT IT HAS CAUSED ME TO LASP INTO BOUTS OF AMNESIA! CAN THE WORLD REFRAIN FROM KICKING ME UNTIL I CAN AT LEAST REMEMBER TO TRY TO GET MY LIFE NOT TO SUCK?!
Unfortunately, that is not the way of the world. I wish I could forget to cry over the state of things.

Financially Fatigued

Hello readers.
I write to you tonight as I hide under my comforter with my phone on silent. I am dodging a creditor.
My whole blogging career, I have been pretty open about my brokey brokeness, just so the young brokies, that should really be reading a Suze Orman book, would understand the struggle. The struggle that is, in fact, real. But, to be honest, the only thing the struggle is at this moment in time is real old.
My philosophy over the years has been honesty with creditors. They call, I answer, and we discuss payment options and dates and income and all the uncomfortable things that come with a creditor call. But it seems that after my last call with a creditor, which was no different than others, I became unable to take another one. I physically can not even force myself to reach for the phone and answer them. After a few missed calls and messages, I realized that it all came down to one thing: I just don't have the energy or the wherewithal to tell yet another creditor that I don't have money. I can't fix my mouth to do it. Seriously. I tried to do it yesterday and just ended up screaming.
At this point, I can't even believe that the creditors believe me when I tell them I'm penniless. Who stays broke for five years that doesn't have a serious problem? Now that I think about it, I guess you could consider my general attitude and terminal sadness a serious problem.
The unfortunate thing is that I know how this story ends. If I don't get it together and return these calls fast, my already struggling credit score will become jeopardized, which means I will not only have to dodge calls but also my Credit Carma alerts. Yes, my score will just go down and down and down until I will have nothing to look forward to but pre-paid phones and the roommate life over 40. Both things are enough to cause me to act urgently.
But tonight, I hide. If you want to reach me, send me a telegraph. I'm not taking calls, understandably.