Wednesday, July 21, 2004
budgeting for mental health.
i would like to be more satisfied. it occurs to me more often recently that finding more satisfaction may have much more to do with cultivating some sort of contentness than with railing at a world which won't yield up her treasure. i really want to do what i want to do, but i'm frightened of the prospect of a plan where Someone Else holds all the cards. i don't think casting directors are gods who kill us for sport, but i'm uneasy waiting for those types to make the decisions that will make me happy. and, increasingly, i'm wondering if there isn't some worm in my apple that will make me unsatisfied with what i have then, just as i am now.
i get freaky everytime a conversation with myself seems like it might veer into advice towards settling. there's probably a spot on the continuum between settling and railing, though. i occasionally felt truly wretched when i looked at my own policy of only falling for those who had other plans, and having only wimpy feelings at best for those who fell for me. that one turned out okay, which i guess is a good object lesson for the current conundrum, but the immense satisfaction i felt upon the finding of the monkey hasn't done much to dull the failure chant that goes on in my head.
i lived in a place once where some people knew who i was and what i did, and i liked that. i also made enough money to buy the occasional pair of green suede boots. here, in this harder place, even with the incredible buffering effect of the monkey, i have neither work nor buying power, and it really smarts.
the dayjob guys, bless them, are considering offering me a spot on their health plan. if they pick up half the tab, i still can't really afford it, but maybe i can figure it out. therapy: it's the new green suede boot.
i get freaky everytime a conversation with myself seems like it might veer into advice towards settling. there's probably a spot on the continuum between settling and railing, though. i occasionally felt truly wretched when i looked at my own policy of only falling for those who had other plans, and having only wimpy feelings at best for those who fell for me. that one turned out okay, which i guess is a good object lesson for the current conundrum, but the immense satisfaction i felt upon the finding of the monkey hasn't done much to dull the failure chant that goes on in my head.
i lived in a place once where some people knew who i was and what i did, and i liked that. i also made enough money to buy the occasional pair of green suede boots. here, in this harder place, even with the incredible buffering effect of the monkey, i have neither work nor buying power, and it really smarts.
the dayjob guys, bless them, are considering offering me a spot on their health plan. if they pick up half the tab, i still can't really afford it, but maybe i can figure it out. therapy: it's the new green suede boot.
