Lost Cause II
I panicked. I sent out a number of strange emails to various people which I rather regret now. For someone who usually says so little, I am often surprised at just how much trouble I can cause by simply not knowing when to shut up. I wondered briefly if I am actually manic-depressive, but just happen to go years between manic states. Yet lacking formal psychological definition, I have to imagine that the very nature of bipolar disorder is rapid and frequent mood shifts.
I also quit my job. This was not a spur-of-the-moment decision, because I had been uncomfortable there for some time. The definitive factor though was the thought of losing something else. A few months ago, I inherited some assets. Most of it is in stocks and mutual funds and shares of jointly owned properties, which I do not really understand and have probably only lost value since coming into my possession. (With me cheering for “The Collapse” all the while.) There was also a not insignificant amount of cash. My sister put a down payment on a house. I bought a bass for $300, used. It was the cheapest of the ones that I was considering, and I never even got around to buying a much-needed larger amplifier to plug it into before the band broke up. I did not buy glasses to replace the ones that I lost a few months ago, that were ten years old anyway and could probably use a prescription update. I did not buy shoes to replace the ones that I threw away on Memorial Day almost two years ago. I did not buy a computer despite enduring months, if not years, of “You need a new computer” every time I saw a certain friend. In fact, aside from monthly bills, I rarely spend money on anything other than food and gas.
Truth be told, I completely ignored this development. And it probably goes without saying, I told no one. Maybe it was because when I first found out, I did not want to believe it until I actually saw it, and then when it took over a year for all the paperwork to be finalized I just did not care anymore. Maybe it is because it is really all just numbers on pieces of paper that have no tangible meaning to me. Maybe I was afraid that people would have different expectations of me and I like it when people make me dinner. Also, it seems that I just get off on keeping secrets.
I did not ask for this, I did not expect it, and it is not like I get to keep it. Please. I do not know if it will be the collapsing economy, mismanagement, fraud, identity theft, or whatever. (Am I concerned that by announcing it online that I set myself up as a target for a potentially nefarious international reader? A little, but I hope that the fact that my last name appears nowhere on this blog will slow them down.) But as I am sure to lose it, why get excited?
I had to make rules though. When discussing financial matters and concerns it is perfectly reasonable to refer to my low income, because I did have very low income, and I have gotten by my whole life on the simple formula money in > money out. Regardless of my bank balance, I do not like to operate “in the red.” However, I was never, ever allowed to say “I can’t afford it.” Bull crap I can’t. Unfortunately, one day I found myself saying those very words, and I immediately thought to myself, “Oh no you di’n’t!” I lied. Worse, having done so, I did not apologize, and I did not explain. I suppose in that moment I realized it was the beginning of the end. I would like to say that it was not personal, that really I was only lying to myself, in trying to pretend that nothing had changed. I do not know if that matters now.
Someone might ask, “Well why not just give it all away and then no one ever had to know?” But no, I can’t do that. Certainly not that. So what exactly am I afraid of losing? Money? It would not exactly seem so. [I don’t care too much for money, ’cause money can’t…] Yet when I think about how many of my family members worked hard, and then died in order for me to have the opportunity to be able to do whatever I want with my life… if I am not out there doing whatever I can then I am just pissing on their legacy.
So I quit my job to focus on music and my other projects, because I can. As someone who honestly can not remember the last time that I made a major life decision that I did not regret later, do I really think that *this* of all things is a good idea? Of course not. I know it is not so much money that I never have to worry about financial matters again, just not for right now. But this is the real world. Someone my age is supposed to have a career, a real job with benefits and a retirement plan and all that. You can’t just up and quit your job to chase your dreams like there is no tomorrow. Not in the real world. It just does not work like that.
Oh well… doing it anyway.