Between A Rock and A Hard Place

Shit. Now the brakes on the car need $300 worth of repairs, and it just so happens that we won’t have that kind of cash for another week and a half, unless I’m incredibly lucky and my unemployment benefits kick in this week. In the meantime, there’s a job in a nearby town that sounds promising, and they want applicants to appear in person instead of sending in a resume over the Internet.

To say that the timing blows would be the understatement of the year. Everything is about to turn to crap for us financially anyway, and we need this headache like I need another 30 pounds of Zyprexa weight. On the other hand, I need the car to get off this hill and do something constructive along the lines of finding work; I’m just not going to risk my life to do it. When I was younger I might have, but I’ve got adventures to seek, and as sucky as life is right now I’m in no hurry to leave it. So the brakes are going to get fixed somehow, even if I have to go to one of those loan sharks—excuse me, payday loan places—to borrow the dough.

And I’m astounded at how calm I am about all of this.

Usually car trouble sends me into panic mode, and money trouble is right behind it in terms of stress levels. Combine the two, and I go completely into orbit. But while I’m VERY unhappy about this particular twist of fate, I’m not freaking out this time. For one thing, freaking out doesn’t fix the car, and for another, it certainly doesn’t do me a bit of good. I don’t know…..maybe I’m so medicated that I CAN’T get too worked up, and if that’s the case then it’s a good thing I’m taking all this stuff. I didn’t know there were substances that could block that response almost entirely, either alone OR in combination with others. Who knew Zyprexa had anti-anxiety properties?

I’ll have to remember this and report it to Dr. Awesomesauce when I see him on the 30th. I don’t have a feeling about whether he’ll leave me on the Z or not; I thought he was going to taper me off it at our last visit, but he wasn’t at all inclined to do so then. I almost hope he continues it for awhile longer, because it really is helping me stay mellow even though our recent warm, sunny days have brought whispers of some old familiar stirrings. Thankfully the lid is on firmly, because under other circumstances Manic Barbie would probably be dancing on mountain tops by now, despite being between a rock and a hard place. That bitch has got NO sense and I don’t have the time or the inclination to deal with her.

So here I sit, more or less stranded until Will and I can scrape together the money we need to get back on the road again, and I find myself with the sneaking suspicion that this might be a sign from the universe—something to prevent me from taking yet another job that will tie me in knots. The job in question is at another assisted living facility, and I could kick myself for even being interested because I’ve got no business doing another 24/7 gig, which is what these jobs always turn out to be. But it’s what I know. and right now, familiarity is looking better and better. :/




Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

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