dea ex machina - one of those coincidences

2:47 PM 4/19/11

Apparently, either I've just had a lucky coincidence, or the puppeteers are pushing the 'dea ex machina' button, because I just got a phone call on my answering machine about a job that I applied to months and months ago. It's usually 'dea ex machina.'

I was just going to write that I am probably going to take a minimal dose of sjw to get me through this crisis. Every possible thing that can go wrong is currently going wrong. And it's happening during an extremely severe attack of incapacitating fatigue that makes me barely able to even get up and go to work every day.

My car hasn't been fixed, and it's not working very well, and it's also going to have an expired inspection sticker very soon. Every time it rains, water is leaking in through one of the crushed areas from the accident.  Also, and this is something under my voluntary control, but, I had decided I would let my copper.net account expire too, and that's not as much of a problem as losing my car.

I had also been trying to go looking for a job working as a bookkeeper, but this is a huge investment of energy that cannot be done quickly in the midst of a crisis. Starting a new business, going into self-employment, is not something that you can do on the spur of the moment and get instant results. It takes a long, long time to find any clients at all, although when you finally start getting clients, they say that you might even get overwhelmed by having TOO MANY clients. This is something that you should not try to do in an emergency when you need instant results right now. It's best for me to just get a normal job whenever I need instant results. This was one of those things that 'they' were urging me to do, and it's something I desperately want to do, and that's why I was doing it; and they also know that whenever I'm working two jobs, I'm much less inclined to invest any energy into starting my own business; so it happens that the only time I will really invest effort into it is during the time when I am underemployed; but that's the time when I desperately need instant results. If I weren't chronically fatigued, I could accomplish goals even while working at both jobs.

Anyway, I still haven't filled out the tax form, either, although that will probably not take very long at all when I decide to do it. It's just late. But that's just another thing piling up that I cannot do while being totally incapacitated with exhaustion.

There is a bus that goes by my house; however, it's infrequent and inconvenient. And there are so many small trips that I make to go out and get food, and that kind of thing, so my entire life will have to be totally reorganized, all at once, in a disaster situation, instead of in a slow, pre-planned transition. I will have to use my refrigerator more and I will have to buy food in advance instead of eating the way that I've been forced to eat since - that thing happened to the fridge.

I haven't even gotten the mail out of the mailbox for, like, a couple weeks, I think. I usually get junk mail. My bills pay themselves automatically. But I need to go get the mail. And I need to do the laundry or get new clothes, because the clothes are very involved in the reaction I am having, and I probably need new shoes too, although I have an old pair someone gave me, and they need to be tested and broken in to see if I can endure standing up for eight hours with those shoes on.

Well, dea ex machina called on the phone, so I have to decide whether I'm going to work at that job or not. It's not a temp job, it's a fast food job.

Everything sucks.

Meanwhile, I've irritated Rick enough that he is telling me he only likes to see people in the real world. And I couldn't agree more with him. It would be nice if my situation were not such a complete and total mess right now, because I'd accept that as an invitation. MY house, on the other hand, is... indescribably... a hell hole. I don't talk about what my living situation is like because it is too sad, depressing, and disgusting. There are things I have to do to survive because of the drug residues, such as, cover large parts of the floor with cardboard, and so on. My health is poor, and I don't talk in detail about all of my health problems on my blog. I don't want anyone thinking that I am actually a pleasant person to be around. As a matter of fact, in the real world, I am very awkward and difficult to get along with. I would be horribly insecure and terrified out of my mind, and I wouldn't be ready to explain all of the strange things I do and all of the reasons why I do them all, but a lot of it is because of 'them.' Also, I don't look like my pictures. I'd be worrying that the pictures make me look prettier than I am in the real world, because I always pick the pictures that came out best, while there are other photos where I looked horrible. So I'd be worrying about how disappointing and miserable I am in the real world.

I am nothing but potential, unrealized potential. I know the cures, I know the prevention, I know the future, but the reality and the present is... a terrible mess.