Today, I think I am more embarrassed at my life than I have ever been. I am almost 60 years old. I make a salary below the poverty line. I think my clients make more than I do. I commute 30-40 minutes to get to and from work which is an average of about an hour commuting Monday through Friday. I am convinced very few of the motorist have drivers license in the states.
My life could not afford me a trip out of state to see a woman I care about to enjoy her retirement celebration from an employer we both worked for over 20 years. A couple of years ago I could not afford to attend a funeral of a woman who lived for almost 100 years. A couple of months ago I could not even think of attending a funeral of a dear friend’s husband. Today, I cannot travel to attend a homegoing service of a woman that I owe part of my happiness.
When will I advance in life to the point of grace? Will I be in the same space for everything that matters? My finances are an embarrassment to my friends and unfriends alike. How I presently live does not reflect my impressive resume. If you saw my resume, wallet and bank account you would think that I was a ghost. Not the holy ghost. My bank account is a sad attempt at humor. When I go to the bank, I wear dark glasses, cap, and scarf. I can hardly make eye contact with the teller as she brings up my account. I visit the bank to make deposits only to cover the auto withdrawal that is on the way. As for my body; its a draft of a science project under observation.
My scalp is a place where I use to have hair. Over several months I stood to the mirror combing my hair watching about 6 inches of hair leave my scalp. I have been in a state of frustration and depression ever since. My feet need my continuous verbal encouragement to move without pain. I am obsessed with just about every youtube and google topic on hair loss, entrepreneurship, wigs, hair products for nappy natural gray hair, makeup, aging, essential oils for natural remedies and my latest interest is Thyroidism. Who knew?
My daughter is a drug addict and taking her latest pill called De-ni-al. My grandson is one decision from a do-over. My son is an unpaid therapist for the justice department. My ex-husband is a bully. My current husband may wish that he was the one that answered the preacher “that if any man has just cause why these two people should not be wed…”
This is only the beginning.