06/09/00
I am officially a kept woman.
I am here at "work" wearing the adorable little outfit Megan bought me last night at the Gap (yeah, we're GAP DYKES) and my first contact with the outside world this morning was a call to my bank hotline to find out that I am $75 overdrawn. Fuck, shit, FUCK. How did that happen? I haven't the foggiest. I guess maybe I thought some things had gone through before they really had, and then Megan was supposed to transfer her money for our joint bills into my account last week and SHE DIDN'T and that put me $38 in the hole and then the assholes at the fucking bank slapped me with $20 each for the two checks they paid. At least they went ahead and paid them, but FUCK ME...I've had this account for three years, don't I deserve more respect than that? And then I call to find out how the fuck I ended up overdrawn, and I get some dipshit minimum-wage making customer service bitch who probably didn't even make it out of high school and she's giving me the third fucking degree--"what's your social security number? when was the date of your last deposit? what branch did you open your account at? what's your date of birth?" Like any of that fucking matters, why would I be scamming on an account that's FUCKING OVERDRAWN, DUMBASS???? God, the stupidity of the nation never ceases to amaze me.
And since I don't get another paycheck until next Thursday, I am officially FUCKED. I am going to the lake this weekend courtesy of Megan. I am eating next week courtesy of Megan. I'm considering a payday loan, but that would just be stupid. I am just going to have to be her bitch until I get my financial woes straightened out.
The really odd thing about this arrangement is that usually, "kept" people are kept and given presents and survival gear (homes, etc.) in exchange for discreet sexual activity. I'm just getting it for free.
I'm trying to tell myself that this is OKAY and GOOD and RIGHT, because after all, I DID put her through her last 2 years of undergrad while she was bringing home $100 a month. And I DID rack up enormous credit card debt to provide her with clothes and vacations and food and other items.
But then, it seemed right. Now it just doesn't.
Maybe because we're older now? Maybe because now we're more into "fairness" and "equal opportunity?" Maybe because then we were deeply in love and it didn't matter whose money it was, and now we're just another couple of fucking yuppies who value our liquid assets more than our relationship?
Hmmm...yeah, THAT could be it...
I balked on taking my dogs to the field yesterday, but Noodle decided for me by opening the front door and letting them all out. I went over with leashes in hand and Zak was totally fucking strange. Then it hit me--oh, he's stoned. Now I get it. He was a complete jackass for the most part. The oddest thing was that he seemed to be in a bit of a hurry to get going and none too pleased that I was around...yet, when I went hunting for George and Martha (who of course disappeared), he was waiting for me when I came back. I guess it could be that he was just too fucked up to move at that moment. I asked him to watch my dogs if I decided to leave them at home, and he was lucid enough to wonder aloud how he would track George, who won't even really come to him. But he did agree to do it. (I have decided to go ahead and take them.)
It doesn't matter to me. Not one way or the other.
For some unknown reason, I got tied up watching the Real World auditions last night. I think I would be such a fabulous addition to that show. I'd just sit there in my recliner with the t.v. remote in one hand and a big margarita in the other and be a complete bitch to the rest of them--because they, being so fresh and young and straight from the dorms or their parents' houses, would be looking at this as their first foray into "the real world"--whereas I, grumpy old bitter bitch that I am, would look at it as A VACATION. Hey, look at me, I'm living here RENT FREE and I don't even really have to have a JOB ANYMORE! YEEEEE-HAH! Kiss my elderly ass, you little fuckers! And they'd have all these single-cast-member interviews where the rest of the group talks about how I fuck up the group dynamic and how much they all hate me. To mix things up even more I'd somehow manage to sleep with all of them (individually, of course) and they'd end up having a group meeting to kick me out and then Puck would have to come and help fight for my rights. It would be beautiful.
As it is I'm completely fucked. The only good news is that, to the best of my knowledge, I don't have any more outstanding checks or charges. The bad news is that I'm completely busted and without any disposable cash until next Thursday.
I want to cry.
At least I look good.
I've also discovered that the secret to evening out my big fat ass is wearing grossly padded bras. They double as a bullet-proof vest when walking/driving through midtown. Now I'm invincible. (Insert Pat Benatar lyrics here)
I just finally got hold of Megan and told her of my dilema. In her most exasperated, mother-like voice she said, before I was even finished talking, "call the account line, transfer whatever you need out of my savings account..." Uh, why don't you go play hide and go FUCK yourself, bitch? I swear to God, she sounded just like her condescending, self-righteous mother who is always quick with the checkbook and even quicker with the bitchy remarks. I told her I didn't want any of her money. Then I asked her, "say, did you ever transfer that bill money into my account?" "Oh...no. I forgot." Yeah, shit-for-brains, maybe that's why I'm fucking overdrawn now. Put that in your fucking pipe and smoke it.
This relationship is just soooooo wrong.
And I'm no longer sure that I care to bother trying to make it right.
I have another interview on Monday morning, which means I'll have to skip therapy. Actually, I think going on a job interview that puts me one step closer to THE FUCK OUTTA HERE is therapy enough.
More later, after I do some WORK because I can't afford NOT TO...
Next Entry