My life is a hell

I got my champagne and fireworks--on the 4th of July in Mr. M's mother's backyard, while Mr. M was in his room, trying to sleep through wrenching pain. His mom had me pop open a bottle she was saving in the refrigerator, not because we had anything to celebrate but because she needed a drink.

It's miserable to see the suffering of someone you love and not be able to do anything about it. And he gets tired of being fussed over, of women worrying about him.

I wasn't prepared to see him in such bad shape. I knew it was major surgery, but I didn't really get how major. He's 6 feet tall and now weighs 130 pounds with his shoes on. He can't stand up straight and walks with a cane. The surgeon said to expect the recovery to take ten weeks. The good news is that even though he is miserable, he is recovering. He will get through it. And then he has to get in physical and mental shape for his transplant.

His time in the hospital was especially bad because they put him in a recovery room with brain-damaged patients who babbled nonsense. But worse than the patients were the mean nurses who made fun of them. And one of the patients died while he was in there. I can understand why he now dreads going back to the hospital.

I had parked my car at the airport while I was gone, and when I got back it wouldn't start. It turned out to be not that big of a deal--whoever put the new battery in got the wires crossed so it wasn't charging right. Still, it couldn't be jumpstarted and I had to get it towed out of the garage, which was an enormous pain in the ass.

I took a cab home the night I got in because I just couldn't deal with it right then. Then I left my cell phone in the cab.

I'm broke. I'm doing a nonpaid internship this summer (all six weeks of it). I got a thousand dollar grant which paid my rent and utility bill for July. I'm taking money out of my pathetic little retirement account to get through the rest of the summer. But they make it such a hassle to get your own money and they take forever to process a request, and I'm still waiting.

So my car is still at the garage and I haven't been able to pay the dogsitter. I forced myself to overcome my dread of credit cards and applied for one, because I can't be without some kind of cash flow if we need to evacuate. But of course the card hasn't shown up yet, either.

I got a B- in legal research and writing, which is better than I thought I would do. But I got all B's in the rest of my classes, which means I got slightly below a 3.0 GPA for the semester, which means they could take my scholarship away from me if they want to be strict about it. I think, I hope, they will have mercy since I've only a tiny bit short and my overall GPA is still above a 3.0 and they know it's been a tough year.

But I have to figure out how to get at least some A's to mix in with the B's. I can't spend the next two years in constant fear of losing my scholarship. And I'm pretty sure I had the highest LSAT score in my class. If I'm smart enough to get a 175 on the LSAT, it seems like I should be smart enough to get at least a few A's in law school.

I've been thinking of an old friend of mine who lives in New York. During the first few weeks after the hurricane, she sent me a gift certificate to L.L. Bean so I could get some warm clothes, since I left home with only a few t-shirts, jeans and sandals. But later, when I was in DC, I sent her a few emails because I was trying to get up there for a weekend and wanted to see her. But she never replied. I didn't pursue it any further because I just couldn't deal with any friendship drama. But I wondered if I'd done something that offended her, and if so what it was.

There's been a lot in the news about people spending their FEMA money on strippers and cruises, and I started to think maybe she's mad because I used some of my FEMA money to buy a BMW. On the face of it, I suppose it looks bad. But it was a ten-year-old BMW for which I paid a little less than $4,000. It might be the nicest $4,000 car that anyone ever got, but doesn't that make it a sensible buy? Did she miss the part about how I almost how panicked I was the day before the storm when I couldn't find a ride with anyone who would let me bring my dog? Or how I had to criss cross the country in the following months? I needed car just as badly as other people needed hotel rooms.

Well, who knows what's really going on with her. I suppose I could call and ask. But maybe I don't want to know.

I don't know why, after everything that's happened, that right now is the point where I just can't take one more damn thing.

If another hurricane hits, I'm not going to worry about school or work or anything. I'm just going to get out of here and go vegetate with my folks and with Mr. M. I'm almost looking forward to it.

A very nice woman I don't know has been reading my blog and leaving supportive comments. It's comforting. A little odd but not in a bad way. Ten years ago when I was trying to be some sort of confessional non-fiction writer, I wanted more than anything to interest strangers in my life. But my life wasn't all that interesting at that point, and I was not wise or talented enough to make something compelling out of nothing.

And now, well...

Be careful what you wish for.