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nanowrimo 2010


Diary of a Blind Madman

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Going Going Gone
nanowrimo 2010
Today's updates and x-posts: None

Things are building to a crisis again. I haven't been paid for over a month. The bills are behind. The mortgage is overdue. If I get paid tomorrow (a possibility) it will catch me up on those things, but the mortgage is due again within a few days and no groceries are available. I've made some overtures for assistance to DFS, but they were massively unhelpful. Someone said they would send me forms. Fine.

I think there is some degree of abjectness to which have not fallen. I seem inadequately destitute, impoverished, pitiable, and hopeless. My vocabulary apparently counts against me. I speak better english than the locals so I must be employed, employable, a "college boy", or somehow trying to pull something. I think I'll start talking like Goofy from the Disney cartoons and see if I qualify more easily. I hate this place. I hate these people. If I hear once more that "Gee, you're handling it really well" and I must certainly qualify for some demeaning subsistence-level job, I'm going to choke a social worker.

The number of days when it seems like a good idea to climb a roof and start sniping are growing in number.

I suppose there is nothing to do but wade into the bureaucracy up to my neck. I can't do this. I don't want to do this. Someone has to help me. Nobody is going to. I am at the end of my ingenuity. My memory is shot, my ability to keep track of appointments is nil. I keep wading into this stuff and losing my way. I'm going to wind up with a keeper. No, I am going to wind up in an institution. I have had a lifelong fear of being insane and knowing it. Why do our worst nightmares come true?