Now That I'm Forty...


Born in New York and now going to die in New York. Someday.

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Now That I'm Forty...

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Friday, February 11, 2005

I'm Not Gone

I'm really not.

But I have realized that possibly five people read this blog. Me, myself, I, and two random people who trip over this link from a misguided Google search.
Well, that makes it a little better in terms of making this a diary. I only have to write it for myself (me and I can go scratch for all I care).

So.

I'm still workimg at Starbucks. Have I mentioned the Food Stamp card I got in the mail months ago? This was NYC's concession to me for not qualifying for the one-shot rental deal. So if I would have gotten kicked out due to non-payment, how was I supposed to receive the foodstamp card that they mailed? Can a person get mail forwarded to a homeless shelter?

Nevertheless, the foodstamps have revolutionized my spending habits. Especially given the fact that the PathMark is now opened in my neighborhood. (145th and Freddie Douglas Blvd! Recognize!) The supermarket is part of the new "Luxury Co-Op" which has become that block. (No one lives in it yet. I think they haven't sold out yet. It'll be interesting to see all the new, middle-class white people we get as a result. I guess I actually do like white people.) Across the street from it, they have torn down all those bricked-up ruins. It is now an empty lot. Then west of the lot is Jackie Robinson Park. And lining the west end of the park are apartment buildings overlooking us all.

In other words, my neighborhood is BEAUTIFUL. Renovation, progress, diversity. I don't want the street folk, round-the-way-girls, or hoodrats to be banished, but I do want to see them step up their game. I supposed Harlem was supposed to be about black people feeling good in their own place. I can feel that. But screaming up and down the block, dealing drugs on the corners, or being approached and begged by the odd crackhead is not my idea of comfortable. No one should have had to accept that. All this progress is going to force some change. There may have to be some court battles to prevent greedy landlord from raising rents as a result of the infusion of influence, but elsewise, we could use the economic lift.

Speaking of economics, I was saying that the foodstamps have helped me control my spending. What I find I like is FOOD. I was spending my money on overpriced food. I can't afford to support that habit. Now thanks to foodstamps, I can get all the food I can eat, and still have money to pay the odd bill here or there. (Still not enough to pay rent, though. Part time at Starbucks is NOT meeting the need.) So I'm cooking again. I marinate steaks and salmon, and pork chops and hamburger. Have rice and peas and corn. I drink herbal teas and 100% fruit juices. I eat sorbets. I drink POM Wonderful juice (and will never buy it out of my own money. 4.00 a bottle? PLEASE. Where are the pomegranates grown, on Mars?) I also get to eat my sweet treats at Starbucks at a discount, and get a free beverage of my choice during a workshift.

Add to this the fact that I have an average of four clients in New Jersey and you'd think I should be happy.

No. I need more. I need to have enough to pay my bills. I need to have enough to date women.

Okay. So to that end, I have registered with one insurance carrier for referrals in NJ, so I can increase my client load. I should be pounding the doors down of the other carriers, but I'm hesitant. I fear change. The week that passes between my ight of doing therapy has veins of anxiety running through them. I fear doing the therapy incorrectly. Making a fool of myself. Letting my client down. Getting challenged on my skills.

In the last few weeks or practice, though, I've gotten nothing but compliments from my clients. They've acknowledged that I'm good at this. I usually ride away from NJ (on public transportation) feeling on top of planet Earth. Feeling like I've re-discovered my calling. Then the weekly grind sets in (pun intended) and I dread returning to the counseling chair. Worried again that I'll blow it. That they'll discover what an impostor I am, and question how in God's name did I ever get a license.

I'm going to chalk this up to common adult fears. Most people have performance anxieties and insecurities. Hence the healthy business of producing and distributing alcohol.

My Childhood Bud and his wife have had twin babies!! YAYYYYY! They were having a hard time and went for in vitro. After a few attempts, the last nine months have been tense--but those kids stayed and grew and were born! SO HAPPY!!! It was a heartbreaker to think they were never going to be able to have kids, especially given how much he seemed to want them. So congrats to him. He's also moved two hours north in NY so I miss the opportunity to hang out with him and these kids of theirs. I said I miss the OPPORTUNITY. I can't say whether I'd had gone over there. I still haven't visited my aunt, just around the block, in about four or five months. I fear she might actually have died, and the family just hasn't bothered to tell me. And I don't want to find out either.

My soon-to-be-doctor friend is even closer now to being one. His internship will end at summer's close. He'll be making sooooooooooooooo much money. But still I'll owe him thousands.

I'd better get aggressive with these insurance companies.

NY State still hasn't decided when it's going to take applications for a NY license. I want to believe I'll be truly aggressive with NY, since I want to work here as well as live here, and THAT'S why I'm acting psychotic concerning NJ. But one can never be sure. I could just be psychotic with no explanation.

Oh, and why I'm taking public trans to NJ? They finally towed my car away. Then a friend stepped up and offered to bail the car our, make repairs and let me sell it at a profit so I can pay him back. Whatever profit I make will go to paying my rent (Going on two months overdue now...). So now I owe TWO friends thousands of dollars.

Still, I feel things are going to turn around in 2005. They've GOT to. How could it get worse? I'm ready to stop buying gas for the car, and insurance. I'm ready to stop finding tickets on the windshield for some stupid oversight in my parking habits. I'm ready to go full-time therapist, so I can get the feeling of BEING a therapist into my blood, the way I've done Starbucks, and conquer this faceless, nameless 6-day dread that follows me around between my NJ practice days. I'm ready to stop fearing the mailbox again, and paying bills with happy regularity (as if I ever did. They might have been regular, but it dang sure wasn't happy.)

Okay. See you, Myself, when I see you.

Me at 2/11/2005 11:23:00 AM