September 14, 2005

• Days of Whine and Neuroses

  
  

  T. S. Eliot wrote that April is the cruellest month.  He would have known better had he lived in Alaska–the cruellest month is September.  September is sort of a nothing month–technically, it is still summer, mostly, but the fireweed has bloomed out, the leaves are turning–it is too cold for a t-shirt, too warm for long johns.  September is just sort of a bumper-guard of a month, whose main purpose is to keep the two best months of the year from slamming into each other.

  
  

  September is the leanest month.  Summer sales are way down, and today is the last day of the Wasilla Farmer’s Market, usually my best  sales day of the week, the one when I am most likely to make some credit card sales–and Wells Fargo charges a hefty fee each month whether or not I make any credit card sales.  Most of my customers at the flats don’t even have a drivers license, much less a credit card.  And it was drizzling this morning at my place, and the streets are wet here, so the last Market may yet be rained out.  As I write, it is slated to open to the public in two hours. We’ll see.

  
  

  Another  thing about September, it is SuSu’s birthday month.  I have a lousy track record with presents, about which she has written well and at great length.  This month, I lucked out, however–she liked her gift, blogged about it, said some of her female readers were “green with envy.”  Still, she had said that she wanted to go to a motel overnight, so she could soak in a tub–I mumbled something evasive and noncommittal in reply.  I would dearly love for us to go to Whittier for the 26-glacier cruise, plus a motel stay  overnight– but that would cost around $500, more than my net earnings this month so far.  I finally paid off the car I got early this summer, now I can start paying off a huge credit card bill.  Sigh.

  
  

  I notice that lately I have sighing deeply a lot, followed by a quiet but heartfelt, “Well, fuck.”

  
  

  Not that this has been a surprise.  I knew it was coming.  Then again, they knew Katrina was coming.  Fat lot of good it did most of them. . . .  September is always lean, it is just a lot leaner than usual this year.

  
  

  Then there’s the dental thing.  Few weeks ago, I was munching on some most excellant salmon fillet, broke off a big hunk of molar.  Since our clinic offers dental services now, I made an appointment.  It seems that several of my molars are fractured so badly they could break any time.  Now when I chew anything harder than, say, a raisin, I wonder if I’ll break another tooth. The dentist said I should have them crowned, which is out of the question. I also need to have a really bad one pulled.  As it is, I am slated for about $1500 worth of dental work–luckily, being poor and at the bottom end of their sliding scale, I’ll only pay about $150.  Still, it’s a lot of money.   Now I’m starting to chew with my front teeth, I  look like some  immense demented rodent.

  
  

  What is even worse about this whole thing is that I  can’t just feel bad and be done with it–I feel bad about feeling bad. I keep telling myself that I should be above this sort of fear-based nonsense.  I should be able to transcend these negative emotions.  I keep shoulding all over myself.

  
  

  I know beyond any doubt that God has not carried me this far just to let me down now. 

  
  

  I know that God will not lay on me more than I can handle–but sometimes, I just wish He didn’t have so damn much confidence in me!

  • 2:48 pm
  • 7 Comments