I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m torn between writing a story about how we can “save the world” by replacing plastic wrap and Ziplock bags (which I still use) with beeswax and just lying here under a tree, staring at the sun, letting the clock run out, until it’s time to pick up my daughter from school, where I send her to so I can work more, so I can feed her and house her and buy her things to make me feel less guilty about never spending any time with her.
If I don’t get to work soon, I won’t be able to afford the school that enables me to work… to afford the school… so I can work more… or something like that.
Like everyone, I’ve considered suicide, but I figure I’ll have to solve my problems sooner or later, so why put it off for another lifetime?
Here and now. Here and now. That’s where I’m supposed to be. But how the fuck am I supposed to be here and now when I have so much to worry about?
“Don’t worry. Forget the world. Meditate. Be present,” the gurus say.
I tried that, but the voices in my head said – “Work! It’s almost time to pick up your daughter… Work! It’s almost time to pick up your daughter…”
So I turn my back to the sunshine and the wind in the leaves and open my computer back up… but I still can’t bring myself to write about the beeswax wrap.