The Creature, its lust for destruction, slides beneath, never to return in The eye of every storm

  • Aug. 4, 2015, 4:21 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

Things have calmed down. Retrospect gives way to perspective which shines a light on the past, casting away the darkness, and exposing the truth behind the fear: I suffered from a full-fledged, several day long panic attack.

We had rented this new house. The rent is $1800/month, with a $500 pet deposit, and also the first month’s rent of $1800.00. The landlord is an older man and had established the house as a trust fund, most likely planning for his passing and his family’s security through purchase and rentals of several properties. That being said, all of this had to be in Cashiers Checks for the first month due to the governance of the equity trust.

I’m going to be honest: I didn’t even know what that meant. When Katrina explained it to me, I realized I needed $4100.00, and I needed it yesterday. We paid the security deposits a week ago, but that left me with about $500 or so in my checking account. Major Airline doesn’t pay me until the 5th of August, and the cashiers check needed to rest securely in his mailbox by August 3rd.

I tried to deduct a loan from 401K, and the eager sales person on the phone assured me I’d have the funds by Friday. Friday came and went, the Texas sun scorching the earth before the blue moon forgave us for our trespasses. I didn’t know how to tell Katrina, Dr. John Watson, and Tater Tot the house they wanted so much will fall through; in 27 days we will be homeless.

The stress of work, the stress of money, and the stress of the future broke me. My brain turned 5 years old again and everything made me want to cry. I stopped crying by damn near drinking myself to death instead. Somehow, I still managed to go into work, but I don’t remember a great deal of the passed several days. Just a rotation of pills to wake me up, pills to keep me calm, pills to help me sleep, and nothing but diet coke during work and Wild Turkey not at work.

Before work yesterday morning. Nine and the alarm clock. Nine Fifteen and the alarm clock. A shower in which I gagged and dry heaved. Toothpaste like death. Pull up yesterdays camo shorts. Grab the damn dropkick murphy’s shirt heavy and black cause nothing else is clean. Try to tie the shoes, fuck it then flip flops. Cut my face shaving. Forgot about it, sprayed burberry directly into the wound. Chase two tramadol’s with a coffee black (prescribed) (I have a bad knee from jumping out of army planes and stuff).

Eyes bloodshot, hair dry and wiry. Eyes bloodshot, lips cracking and dry. I suck down to complimentary bottles of water before approaching the teller at the bank. I deposited a $91.54 check I found, a forgotten about pet insurance reimbursement. I get the receipt and do math; only $1351.46 short now. I sit in the lobby and stare at the receipt, thinking its over, when Alicia, a branch manager of Major Airline Credit Union, came over and asked me if I was okay.

I told her no. I told her why. I told her I feel like a failure and can’t support my family somehow making fucking $70k a year only because of the timing of our stupid pay schedule and when most mortgages/rent’s are due; that I came up with a very large sum of money, but still fell short, depleted my savings, and my 401K loan never manifested in my mail slot.

Alicia, a large hispanic woman with kind eyes, grabbed my hand and took me to her desk. She ran my credit; “it’s not bad, but it’s not great.” I knew that. As she guided me to her desk, I recalled this particular sentence is why I never tried to get a loan from my bank.

By the grace of god, or space, or a random mountain goat, or whatever the hell anyone believes in, she approved me for a $2000.00 emergency loan at an incredibly low interest rate. Immediately, the money was deposited into my bank account, and she issued the cashiers check for $1800.00 within less than thirty minutes of sitting at her desk.

I went to the car and cried. No, I sobbed. I really opened up and wailed. I dropped that check off, resting comfortably in his mailbox by close of business on August 3rd. Immediately, a burden lifted. For the first time in weeks, I smiled. I became excited about the new house, with its half court basketball goal, it’s pool table, detached 3 car garage with an additional apartment where I can play my instruments.

It worked. It fucking worked out. Like everything in my life somehow does when I am such a complete and utter fuck up, an angel swooped in and sheltered me in her wings until I was whole again.

The loan is payroll deducted. It amounts to $45 something a paycheck, and its just money I’ll never “see,” so in my mind it doesn’t count anyway. The payroll deductions will show on time payments, building my credit. I don’t even know how to credit.

After tonight, I have seven days off. SEVEN. Then I go back for one overtime shift, a sixteen hour overtime shift (with an extra 16 regular hours, for my birthday), and then two double time shifts, and then I’m off again for another ENTIRE WEEK.

Veterans Energy were amazing this morning and service is already established. The city of Farmers Branch were also amazing, hassle free, and easy to deal with concerning my water, which will be turned on tomorrow.

There is a light at the end of this tunnel.

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Humorous Side Note: After feeling better, a coworker and I decided to start a Hiking Club. Our first meeting is going to be tomorrow, at 5:30, at a lovely place in the punk rock section of town named Deep Ellum. At the Anvil Pub, we will do absolutely zero hiking. The hiking club has nothing to do with hiking at all. It’s just going to be a large group of friends meeting at one place for happy hour once a week to unwind midwork week. I created a page for events and participation is very high already.

We are the American Landmark Club Of Hiking and Outdoor Leisure: A.L.C.O.H.O.L. The club is chartered to enjoy and respect nature comfortably and safely, behind the windows of our favorite pub.

Hiking club will meet once a week, with the place and time announced every monday. A new member of the club will select the place each week, thus opening us to places we would never have thought of or considered going, to experience new things, places, and people. It’s all about the nouns.


Lauren debacle August 05, 2015

My life feels a lot like that too these days . I panic and get into situations where I'm sure I will be screwed and then at the last second the universe gives me a hand.

=bernard= August 05, 2015

I love it! I want to join; say listen, there isn't some sort of initiation is there? You're not going to expect a 67 year old out of shape man to run a gauntlet in his undies while being whacked on the ass with ping pong paddles; are you?

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