So shit just went down and now my in-town best friend has to find a place to stay.
My place is a no go. She has a dog she absolutely will not ever ever part with, and despite begging my landlady, dogs are an extreme NO.
So I guess I did what any best friend would do (or what I thought any best friend would do), I offered to sublease my place and move into a dog and cat friendly place with her. When such place with all of our other requirements basically fell into our laps within a week, and let us move into the place a week after that, how could we say no? Unfortunately, my friend was going through some awful financial shit since she just dumped most of her savings on a 5 year anniversary Hawaiian vacation that she expected to end with a proposal on a volcano (because she told him that if they weren't engaged by five years, they'd have to have a serious talk about their relationship and she told him a volcano proposal would be the most awesome thing ever). So I dumped most of my money (savings and all) into the new apartment. This was just before Christmas.
So here's something that's about to become extremely relevant: Before shit started going downhill for her, we were basically inseparable. Sure, she had other friends that she hung out with, but we were going out and doing things or just hanging out at her place 3 or 4 times a week, and it'd been like that since at least April. I didn't really have anyone to hang out with prior to that (I absolutely suck at making friends), and I only hung out with someone else maybe once a month, so I just got really used to regularly hanging out with my friend (let's call her Carrie, because I am getting tired of typing my friend haha) regularly and only her. Which was a mistake.
Around the time shit started to go down with Carrie, I started to get really depressed again. I don't know if it was because of what was happening, or just a coincidence, but either way, that's how it was. So when Carrie stopped hanging out with me quite so much in December, it hurt, yeah, but I really tried to understand that she needed space to sort things out. And then she just needed other people to sort things out with, because other people have different perspectives, and other people like to go to bars and clubs and be around tons of other people, which I don't like at all. I'm more of a one on one person. And she needed to go on dates, because she hadn't dated anyone new for five years, and before then she hadn't had many dates. So it's cool. Healing process and all that.
But it hasn't ended, it hasn't changed.
Again, we used to hang out one on one three or four times a week, and now we've hung out one on one three or four times in over a month, maybe. We live together now, and I hardly ever see her outside of work. She's always off at another friend's, or out with other friends, or on a date, or has a date over, or just needs some time to herself.
Meanwhile, I'm only getting more depressed and lonely.
I finally talk to her about it, and she said she knew I was depressed, she just thought that I needed my space. I told her most definitely not, I was really lonely and really wanted to hang out with her more. She said she's just used to giving people space or needing to be specifically told someone who is upset needs company. I said I'll try, but I'm telling her now that I'm really lonely and could really use the company. She said she's just used to it not being like that. (This is summing up a half hour long conversation, so it's not quite so simplistic, but I did outright say I wanted her specifically to hang out with me more because I was really lonely).
A week or so later, nothing's changed, so I bring it up again, and basically the same conversation takes place, with a bit more detail on either side.
She's hung out with me one or two times since then, but my depression's only gotten worse, and she was out of the apartment every single day this week. Every day. And around Wednesday she tells me she'll be gone for the whole weekend. At first I was depressed about that, but then I just got fed up. Fucking fine. I'd be alone. I'd revel in being alone. I'd love having the entire place to myself the whole weekend. A friend and I make a long-distance movie date for Saturday, and I'm almost excited to be home alone, because I figure I need to get used to being alone again anyway.
And of course I'm not actually home alone most of the weekend. She's only gone for a few hours Saturday, and when she gets back, she has her current date with her, and they stay up late talking, so I have to take sleeping pills and turn my white noise up really loud in order to sleep. Today she's home almost all day, cleaning and trying to make small talk with me, but I'm stupid and bitter, and will barely acknowledge it. She leaves to go to a Super Bowl party (which I was also invited to, but I didn't feel like being around Carrie, much less Carrie and her new date), and I enjoy the time alone (minus the occasional bursting into tears for being so bitter and awful), and then she comes back with her new date, and they are still up talking when we both have work at 7 in the morning.
And that's just the shortened version of the Carrie-specific side of things.
On the other side, we have my still not having a subleaser for my old place.
And my manager cutting my hours.
So let's do the math, in a really good month, I might make $1000 after taxes. In a bad month, which will start happening now that the holidays are over, I can make as little as $700 after taxes. My bills include two apartments (about $900 total), utilities at one apartment ($100 total), cell phone (about $90), credit cards (between $75 and $150 total), and gas for my car ($30-$60). This is not including food for myself, food and litter for my cat, and random household necessities. Not sure if you noticed, but rent almost took up my entire good month paycheck and was more than my bad month paycheck.
So obviously things aren't going well in that area.
Luckily, I'm getting a pretty good tax refund, which should cover my old apartment's rent until that lease ends.
Unfortunately, I just got a letter in the mail saying I owe my school $3300 back in student loans since I didn't complete a certain percentage of my courses last semester.
Man, this is long, too, and I still have a bit to talk about. Post number three coming up.
No comments:
Post a Comment