Wednesday, September 11, 2013

September 11: Any Dough, Money Problems, Tired of Worry

"I got my damn bags at the station," I said.  "Listen.  You got any dough, Phoeb?  I'm practically broke."

Holden is begging for money from his sister, Phoebe, at this point in Catcher.  He's spent all of his cash on drinks and hotel rooms and a Broadway show.  He doesn't have many options left.  He could come clean with his parents.  He could give his brother, D. B., a call in Hollywood and ask for a loan.  He doesn't do any of those things.  He turns to his elementary-school-aged sister instead.  Holden is not thinking clearly.

Well, it's Worry Wednesday, and the only thing on my mind right now is money.  Or, rather, the lack of money.  This afternoon, my phone service got temporarily disconnected because we were behind in payments.  I had to call my sister can beg for a loan.  Sound familiar?  Yes, I have become Holden Caulfield.

And now, I just got off the phone with a gentleman from church who's the chair of the committee that oversees the church staff.  He told me that my salaried position at church is going to be eliminated come January 1 of next year.  That's another $200 a month gone from my family's budget.  That's in addition to the $400 a month I lost this summer when the hospital eliminated overtime for my medical office job.  I'm literally drowning right now in my thoughts.

I've been trying to avoid writing about financial problems in my blog posts.  I didn't want to complain or whine or get mired in self pity.  Tonight, I'm smack dab in the middle of the hugest pity party in the world.  That phone call pushed me over the edge.  It was like somebody jumping out of a closet, yelling "surprise," and then kicking me in the balls.

I'm tired of worrying about money.  Really tired.  As soon as I wake up in the morning, I start thinking about the next bill that's coming due, or, more likely, past due.  I walk around all day, wondering when the next piece of bad news is going to strike.  It's exhausting.  Really exhausting.  I'm feeling pretty much like a failure at everything tonight.


Saint Marty doesn't even have the energy to come up with a witty way of ending this post.  He's wondering if Holden's sister, Phoebe, has a spare five or six thousand dollars.

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