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It IS a Diary, Darling

March 29, 2021

It has been a long minute since I spoke to you fine folks. This is going to come out like a diary entry.

The catfish poet was constantly criticizing my blog posts. “You’re too open, it’s not a diary darling.” But it is. I say my truth, and this part of what I write isn’t for the money, it is for my memory and sanity, so ya, it is a fucking diary. Neglected as of late, but here I am, trying and shit.

I had plans to bring my Roku north so this old laptop wasn’t my only source of entertainment and stuck on the weird side table at the end of my cat house bed and instead, in my la[p where it belongs. But I forgot, for like 3 weeks straight.

My routine is not great. Up at 11 or so. Down for coffee, watch a movie or two while doing stretches in my room. Eat a tapas style lunch around 2, nap til 3, shower, work, eat, rinse, repeat.
Kept meaning to bring my yoga mat too, forgot that also.

I got stuck in the new book at the part where they finally get together because for a long while that felt like an impossibility, but i think I can now.

I also meant to take a couple pics of my stripper room, I don’t think most folks understand how that works. Why would you, unless you yourself are a traveling stripper. I had one whole experience in my 22 years dancing and that place got lit on fire during a fight about the birthday sex song. But that whole experience was atypical and a story for another day.

I could just buy another Roku. But I haven’t.

Stripper money is a funny thing. It comes and goes in waves. Sometimes overlapping. I was treating myself to a blow out the day before heading to work, a polish change on my claws or new nails, pop into the grocery store across the street to feed myself for the week and suddenly a night or two’s worth of money, poof, gone. Then the phone bill comes due on a bad week and my car still needs fixing, I paid my taxes this morning. I keep waiting for a bonus night at work, and it hasn’t happened yet, in 5 weeks. Just steady, always with one garbage night to throw off my average. 5 weeks running. I am due 5 bonus nights in the near future. Let those overlap instead.

Last week I made meals with what I had on hand, snapped a nail moving furniture the day before I was to work, my roots are coming in and I just left all of it. An experiment to see if it made a difference, it didn’t. I have bigger goals, I don’t need to be fancy. I do need to work harder.

I have decided to lean into what is. Roommate moves into his new house in Belize in 4 days. That leaves me the house I am in all to myself. In all of it’s smoky, leather, grey, bachelor glory.

For at least a year.

I spent last tuesday decluttering, wiping down, sorting and ultimately filling 2 bins worth of donations at Value Village.

I got rid of 8 bags of my own clothes and leftover crap. Next will be the uncomfortable leather couches and the glass tables.

I’d be a fool to move. And it might be foolish to redecorate, but the stuff I salvaged from Newfoundland sits 200 yards from my front door in a now unnecessary storage space. The money saved in storage fees is enough to justify a coat of paint and a new couch. Besides, I nest, it’s what I do. And I will have this place looking like something out of a magazine soon, Good for resale when we get there right? And good for my brain, I hated feeling that ‘ugh’ when I walked in the door after 4 days gone. Anyone who follows my Instagram knows what I am capable of as far as making houses into homes goes. It’s my thing.

My favorite saying, “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.” One of the Roosevelts, Teddy I think. I have nice things across the street and I live here now. It is what is.

There are some downsides. My last friend here left last Thursday. I am doing all of this alone. I mean, it’s just Milton part 2 after the Potato moved out. I did all of that alone. We are back in grey lockdown so I couldn’t go meet new people even if I had any idea how to do that. No social media. I am isolated as fuuuuuck.

No fuck boys to play with neither here nor there, which sucks.

I did try. Only found one that might work and after 2 failed attempts I got a 4:26am ‘babe’ text. That is a privilege, not a right. After which I did give him a shot at redemption and he made out with a 19 year old at the bar 20 minutes after inviting me home, so that is dead in the water. I think the idea is dead in the water really. I should know better than to think anything viable would be found at a small town strip club. That only ever happened 3 times in all my years.

And besides, it is just a distraction. I am there to make money and lots of it. I have a condo, a jeep and trailer to buy, and now a couch. I am seriously thinking pink, never had a pink couch before.

And then there is the tit issue.

I really should have written something last week after the appointment. I finally got to the consultation stage of this horrendous adventure and wow that was not what I had expected.

Apparently there is no rupture.

Which means nothing is covered by insurance or the manufacturer and they still don’t know why I am sick exactly. I know 10 things it isn’t.

Doesn’t explain the lump I keep feeling, nor the way I have been feeling in general. I mean Breast Implant Illness isn’t dependent on a rupture, my body could just be fighting and rejecting the intact implants. And there is an anomaly and a lot of swelling they can’t explain. But now it’s a multi thousand dollar venture for me to get these out to see if I feel better and ya. Fuck. 

I am waiting on a mammogram and another ultrasound, then I will be getting a second opinion. But for now, I am still in expensive limbo. The stretching, constant movement and my renewed drinking has helped with pain management. I limp most mornings, exacerbated by giving myself a B 12 shot and having that butt cheek grabbed extra hard by a customer 12 hours post injection, that wasn’t a fun morning. But at least I knew what was wrong.

So that’s it. You’re all caught up.

Still sick, but better. No good dick at work or home. No tit replacement, yet. But I get to redecorate. I am safe, relatively happy and about to go get my nails done and refill my vegetable crisper and in 2 days I can keep filling my coffers.

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