Day Is Dawning
So far, this vertigo morning is better. The back of the head is made out of a lighter weight cement, there's ringing in the ears and I'm tired (why always tired?), but I'm better, so let's get on with it. My to do list says get bids on the car - AAA, the web and the local dealer - but my heart says put it off. Or my head says put it off and I'm not listening to my heart. Hard to tell. The list then goes on to say talk with your doctors, doctors (and dentists) and finish correcting the style sheets for ArtandLife so Netscape can see it. I think I'll start with ArtandLife. I mean, I'm here, at the computer. Do it. OK? OK? Mumble.
I see the four year loan I took out against my 401k was paid off this last paycheck. Something like a hundred and thirty five dollars every two weeks, two eighty a month. That's more than half a car payment. Can I not afford to pay two hundred and twenty a month for a new car (down payment and insurance aside?). Yes I can, so what's holding me up? At least buy a lens or something. What is this hole I'm inhabiting? This is America. Spend some god damned money!
I hadn't thought about the 401k loan, the fact it was about to be paid off. I also have a small raise kicking in at the end of this week, so the payment is more like a hundred and ten a month. This talking about money in public is considered rude, but obviously my resistance to buying a car no longer has anything to do with money. I often say I'm susceptible to low level depression, have been in the past, and perhaps these are symptoms. Am I really that far around the bend or am I just stuck, unwilling to commit until I see something coming on the horizon? I've been thinking in terms of getting the car so I can drive up to see the family in Portland and Seattle, do some long weekends, but it's no big deal to rent a car or fly. It really isn't. It's cheap. So what's this car about?
I think I need to look elsewhere for whatever it is I'm looking to find. Photography? I'm playing at photography. Some of the pictures are nice, but a professional photographer knows you have to work harder and smarter if you want to do snapshots for a living - which I don't, I'd rather do computers for money - and if I fancy myself an artiste, well, for that I'd need a revolution of eye, if not spirit. I won't say I'm getting old and tired, I am getting old and tired, but I could pretty much do what I want with photography if I had the ambition.
The writing? I'm writing here, not sure I want to write anywhere else. A real editor's opinion would be embarrassing. My own opinion is embarrassing. I don't want to write a book. I don't think I want to write a book. I've been turning story ideas over in the morning bath, but none of them have grabbed me by the dick and led me to the computer.
Travel? Finding Ms. Right? Sure, but when in life haven't we been looking for Xanadu and Christy Brinkley? Or is it Britney Spears? I get a lot of email asking me if I'd like to see Britney Spears. This vertigo thing has me worried - and if it turns out to be bad, then all this hand wringing is mute - but I'm assuming that will go with time. I'm not really assuming that will go with time, but I suspect it will. What then? What a wuss. Mr. Wuss would not have been amused. One Wuss in a house is enough. Two suggests a lack of propriety. A proprietor with a lack of propriety. (moan)
The sun is shining from behind some really black clouds. Half the sky blue, half the sky black, which way is it going? I would like to go outside, I don't want to stay in the apartment. Take a chance, bucko, the day is dawning.