Just one asshole. You know they're waiting. Like bees needing to check the flowers or ants wandering in and out of cracks in the wall. What you built matters not to them. Vulnerability becomes everyone's clothing and the odds of having the wherewithal to deal with an asshole...oy. I like the way you share your consciousness.
Doh! I feel this...it was like all of 2023! Major appliances seem like they always conspire to go kaput in the same week, too. I'm not paranoid but that doesn't mean the internet-enabled durable goods manufacturers aren't out to get me. :)
I guess I'm pretty lucky as far as my "Winter Days" are concerned. I have a significant other who shares the mortgage and bills. This is a BIG help. It allowed me to retire when my body said, "NO MORE"!
Do I panic? It's gotten better with age. I just don't have the energy for it, and I am learning to pick my battles. However, it has been a very long process. I do talk to myself as well as some of my deceased friends. I feel that they listen. My escape fantasy would probably be just to get in my car and see where life takes me.
Oh Spike! What a week. I feel like I have been responsible for as long as I can remember, and even remember my parents saying things like, "it's so nice having a daughter we don't have to worry about," which is such a negligent parent thing to express out loud. I moved out at 15, no surprise.
in 2012 I started paying for life insurance, which is awesome because it sort of doubles as a long term savings if I decide to cash it out, will pay me a monthly pension if I choose it when I'm old, or will set up my family for a little while if I cash out. Otherwise, my only real long term savings is the property I own, and a little savings account I keep tucked away hidden from my husband.
I used to love the idea of a little Gen X retirement village, but watching your woes has made me acutely aware of how one asshole can ruin the whole thing—and you kind of don't know exactly who the asshole is until you've lived with them. People are pretty good at concealing the specific type of assholeishness that cohabitation makes impossible to hide.
I'm just glad you've got a good attitude and outlook. Even at the age of 45, it is clear to me now that if I want to live to be an old lady, it's gonna mean seeing a lot of folks I love go to their graves before me. Sobering but reality.
I only learned positive self talk in the last decade, and to be honest it still feels really cheesy but on occasion is deeply necessary to get me back on the rails.
Keep going! Also, I wanted to let you know that this and your today's Write With Spike came into my email but not my In Box on Substack (Write with Spike goes to the other in box).
Just one asshole. You know they're waiting. Like bees needing to check the flowers or ants wandering in and out of cracks in the wall. What you built matters not to them. Vulnerability becomes everyone's clothing and the odds of having the wherewithal to deal with an asshole...oy. I like the way you share your consciousness.
Doh! I feel this...it was like all of 2023! Major appliances seem like they always conspire to go kaput in the same week, too. I'm not paranoid but that doesn't mean the internet-enabled durable goods manufacturers aren't out to get me. :)
I guess I'm pretty lucky as far as my "Winter Days" are concerned. I have a significant other who shares the mortgage and bills. This is a BIG help. It allowed me to retire when my body said, "NO MORE"!
Do I panic? It's gotten better with age. I just don't have the energy for it, and I am learning to pick my battles. However, it has been a very long process. I do talk to myself as well as some of my deceased friends. I feel that they listen. My escape fantasy would probably be just to get in my car and see where life takes me.
The talking in the mirror thing? Yes. All my life. One day not so long ago, my therapist asked me if I always recognized myself in the mirror.
Oh Spike! What a week. I feel like I have been responsible for as long as I can remember, and even remember my parents saying things like, "it's so nice having a daughter we don't have to worry about," which is such a negligent parent thing to express out loud. I moved out at 15, no surprise.
in 2012 I started paying for life insurance, which is awesome because it sort of doubles as a long term savings if I decide to cash it out, will pay me a monthly pension if I choose it when I'm old, or will set up my family for a little while if I cash out. Otherwise, my only real long term savings is the property I own, and a little savings account I keep tucked away hidden from my husband.
I used to love the idea of a little Gen X retirement village, but watching your woes has made me acutely aware of how one asshole can ruin the whole thing—and you kind of don't know exactly who the asshole is until you've lived with them. People are pretty good at concealing the specific type of assholeishness that cohabitation makes impossible to hide.
I'm just glad you've got a good attitude and outlook. Even at the age of 45, it is clear to me now that if I want to live to be an old lady, it's gonna mean seeing a lot of folks I love go to their graves before me. Sobering but reality.
I only learned positive self talk in the last decade, and to be honest it still feels really cheesy but on occasion is deeply necessary to get me back on the rails.
Sending love, always.
Keep going! Also, I wanted to let you know that this and your today's Write With Spike came into my email but not my In Box on Substack (Write with Spike goes to the other in box).