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End of Year Fear & Loathing

I just found out that Nick’s work prints out all emails. TWICE.

Wow, that’s really stupid.

We are truly astounded at the level of idiocy we see DAILY in all sorts of businesses – yet they somehow manage to make money. The Japanese game people, for instance, have no website. Only FB, IG and Twitter. And yet, they book cons constantly. They are very unprofessional at the con, too, with no table, no signs, no one taking care of their games, NOTHING. And yet…

We could KILL with a print shop. But we don’t have the capital to buy one. It’s our classic issue. We have the ability to run a business, just no money to start one. We run POAS like pros: table, signage, working games, ALWAYS someone at the table, etc. Why? Because that is how you do it! We are many things, but half assers is not one of them.

The pub was a very bad idea that the Universe saved us from – for which we are forever grateful. But it sucked down most of our savings, so now we can’t do SHIT. A print shop franchise is pricey ($45k plus space, equipment, etc.), but you get some really good support, so it’s worth it the price of admission.

BUT. No funding. We could manage the franchise fee, but not the rest. We also can’t get any sort of credit with a bankruptcy on our reports. So, as usual, we are stuck. Nick has to drive an hour to work twice a day to make someone else money. Sigh.

It’s easy to start a business when your family will back you. THAT is the common thread we see with these business owners who are clueless, but manage to make money. They come from family money and/or simply buy a business.

We have no support at all. No family money, only the money we manage to save and invest. So we KNOW what it’s like to have zero support and be on your own to eek out a living. We really wanted more for ourselves, which is why we keep trying to start our OWN business! We want to put our energy into something for US, not some clueless rich white guy who has never worried about money a day in his life.

These are the things in my head as we wrap up 2021. The pandemic has sucked 2 years out of our lives so far and 2022 will be another gone. I am OLD. This is wasted time for me. I am worried that we’ll never be able to have our OWN business, for ourselves. And that, my friends, SUCKS.

The games are fun and all, but make no money. AND we are too old and broke down to shlep them more than a couple times a year. POAS is strictly a side hustle and will remain so. BUT a print shop would be the perfect biz for us. With Nick’s extensive printing expertise (he is the Print GOD) and my admin expertise, we would KILL IT.

But it all comes down to money. Of which we have little. We are ok day to day, but don’t have much extra to go into savings or investments. I don’t see how we’ll ever be able to be on our own. And that is a real buzz kill.

THAT is why I’ve just lost all motivation and deal with depression and/or anxiety (depending on the day) constantly. We are looking at never retiring and always having to work shitty jobs we don’t want. I like MY job, but it’s extremely p/t and that will not change. I’d LOVE to take on more restaurants to admin, but that’s just not in the cards thanks to fucking Covid. Catering is done as well. I am at a loss. Nick hates his job and can’t quit. IT SUCKS.

So, hey, happy holidays and all that shit.

I’m just not into it. I’m too distracted by all of the above. I’m OK, but not OK, yanno? I keep doing the next thing on my list, but I feel 100% stalled. Like everyone else, I imagine.

BUH.

Sorry for the fear and loathing post, but I had to get it OUT.

//end whining

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‘Tis the Season

…for Fear and Loathing™. It’s autumn and my BIG birthday looms. Meh. I usually get a little melancholy this time of year and this year is no different.

I don’t have any big complaints, really. My family – or lack thereof – has been bothering me. I’ve been completely disowned, apparently, and although I’m better off without those people, it still bugs me that somehow I’m always the bad guy. It’s not fair and not true. It’s true that I do think they are militantly ignorant and act like uneducated hillbillies. I’ve got tons of proof of that. That does not mean I feel that I am “better” than they are, it means that I choose to live my life differently and I will not stop living my life as an intelligent, in control, educated adult to appease them. I don’t want to be like them, that doesn’t mean I am a bad person.

They choose to believe that I’m just a bad person who hates them and that’s that. Well, ok, but that’s not the truth.

I cannot do anything for them. I can’t make them get better Drs. I can’t make them take better care of themselves. I can’t make them do what’s necessary to get the care they need. I can’t make my brother listen. I can’t make any of them listen. As I’ve said, my parents could be dead for all I know. Since the big fight with my brother months ago, I’ve not heard a peep.

I guess it’s the not knowing that sucks.

Whatever. I can’t change them and they don’t want my input. I guess they can just sit in that house until they die. ::shrug::

Nick has been feeling bad again, so that’s probably part of my melancholy, too. I’m worried about him. We are pretty sure he has Lyme Disease. I bought a kit from IGenEx to get his blood tested for Lyme with the Western Blot method (the only accurate one, $500) and we are hoping that crazy Dr Erramilli will be onboard for the test and for longterm treatment. There are few Lyme literate Drs in the US and pretty much NONE in the SE US. I hope Erramilli will be willing to go on this journey with us. ::fingers crossed::

I’m just trying to stay positive until my birthday passes. I’ve got Heather coming in town in a few weeks, so that will hopefully be a diversion. I do need to start looking around for a tattoo shop to do our tattoos. They are going to be great!

Well, that’s enough of my whingeing. I’ll post a separate post about Missy Kat’s new diet.

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What you get when you poke the Universe.

We decided to move, as you all know. We needed new energy and a new base of operations. We started moving stuff the last week of May and it all culminated in the movers showing up on Sunday to get all the big stuff. We used Big League Movers (Excellent, big shout out to them on Yelp.) We’d wrangled Comcast on Friday the 13th with a full moon during a Mercury retrograde without incident and staged all our crap on Saturday. Sunday went well, but it was a long day. We were exhausted in every sense.

Monday we had DirecTV coming out in the afternoon, so we decided to go get the fish tank that morning to get it over with. Moving a fish tank is a royal pain in the ass. We stopped at Chick Fil Hate for some breakfast and that’s when my brother called me. I knew it was bad news because he’d never call me during work unless it was. He told me that his best friend had been electrocuted on the job that morning. We’d known Aron Pack since 1978 or 79. Aron and Ricky were like peas and carrots.

I cried off and on most of the day Monday. My poor brother had lost his one solace from his shitty life. He and Aron would work on their Harleys together and Ricky would go to the lake with them. My brother was closer to the Pack family that he was to ours for sure. He and Aron were brothers in a very real sense.

On top of all this, Rob went on vacation for two weeks, leaving me “in charge” (HA HA!) of the bills for the taqueria. Of course, this normally would be no big deal, but with all the exhaustion of moving and the emotional upset of Aron’s death, it’s been VERY hard. The girl that is basically in charge of the store has fucked up all the orders and keeps asking me for checks EVERY GODDAM DAY. We just got back last night from the funeral (in TN) and she’s calling me asking that I drive over there to bring her a check for some beer that “just showed up”. I told her to send it the fuck back. We’ve never gotten along and she is being a total bitch to me since Rob isn’t around. Ugh.

Aron’s funeral was a typical horrible Southern affair. Open casket (even though he’d never wanted that), receiving line, public display of grief, wails from the wailing room, the whole thing. I refuse to approach the open caskets in general, because I want to remember the person alive, not dead. If I see the body, that’s the only thing I’ll remember. I know, because it’s happened with my cats. I didn’t see my granny and I’m not sorry about that. Anyway, I sat next to my brother for the funeral service and felt the hurt and sorrow flow from him. It was the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced. I’m actually very empathic, but I tend to keep it turned off as much as I can because I find it clouds my judgement and causes me to take on others’ drama. But in this case, I turned it on and tried to take as much of my brother’s pain as I could. Probably not the best thing for me, but I did it anyway. I’ve never seen such hurt in his eyes. Never. (I did pay for it, as I completely broke down last night, again. Nick did his best to comfort me. Thank the gods for xanax.)

My poor brother is a very good guy. He’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he would (and does) do anything for anyone who needs help. His life is a shit sandwich. He’s got a job he doesn’t like and is low paying. He’s got a 17 year old daughter that is hell on wheels, who has done nothing but cause drama for the last several years – especially since her drug dealer mother was murdered. She got knocked up on purpose and is now shacked up with some idiot 20 year old that she’s known for, oh, three months. My brother lives with two parents in their 70s who are in declining health. My father has dementia and emphysema. He remembers nothing. He’s asked me at least a dozen times where I’ve moved to, if it’s a bigger place and if it’s more expensive. My mother has been hospitalized for several weeks for an as yet unnamed neurological disease that has rendered her 75% immobile.

And now my brother lost his best friend. It is heartbreaking. As we stood graveside in the boiling heat yesterday morning, I looked up at the clear blue sky and heard birds singing. It made me even sadder. The world goes on. The most horrible things happen and the sun rises and the birds sing. We adapt. But it sure does HURT.

Aron’s death has scared me, badly. Aron’s wife Tina has lost her husband of 17 years. Just like that. In the blink of an eye. She said goodbye as he left for work like any other morning and now he’s gone. I can’t help but identify with that. If I lost Nick like that, I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t have family support. I’ve got a few close friends, but I am pretty self contained. I tend to not rely on people very much since I’ve had so many people fuck me over (especially the family). I can’t help but be afraid of what would happen to me if I lost Nick. I think I’d sell everything and move overseas. I’d be lost, that’s for sure. Or maybe I’d choose to check out as well. It’s a definite possibility, I won’t lie.

So that’s what’s been going on the last couple of weeks. It’s been hard. I’m physically and mentally spent. We are missing Heroes AND the Atlanta Gaming Expo. I still feel emotionally fragile, like tears could happen any minute. ::sigh::

So, be careful when you poke the Universe, folks. You just might get more than you bargained for.

We’ve got to go to Maplehurst today for the final items: fans, plants, bird feeders, etc. I just want all this to be OVER. We’ve not even touched the boxes here. Don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me much for the next month or so. I just need to regroup and set up my house. Please don’t call me. You can text or message on FB, but just don’t call. I’m over the phone right now.

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Gloom, despair…

and agony on me. Deep dark depression, excessive misery. If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all. Gloom despair and agony on me.



I have to stop reading gloomy books and watching gloomy TV specials about the decline of America. It’s happening and will continue to happen and there is not one thing I can do about it, so why expose myself to so much GLOOM? Meh.

I’m a realist. I prefer to see things how they are rather than pretend that it’s different. That said, I also have to be wary of my Scorpio nature and avoid wallowing. I’ve been wallowing in the bad news lately. It’s true that American is in decline as is the rest of Western civilisation. Reading books and watching shows won’t change that. Neither will camping out in a park, for that matter. It’s WAY WAY beyond that happy crappy.

But why not just step back and try to find a reason to be happy? I’m trying, I swear, but I’m not getting anywhere. I’ve had a string of failures the last few years that have been demoralising and, well, a DRAG, MAN. Weight loss: FAIL. Breaking Think Weasel! out into something profitable: FAIL. Selling jewelry: FAIL. Trying to sell extra crap and clothes for some cash: FAIL. Attitude adjustment: FAIL. Staying young: FAIL. Doing volunteer work: FAIL. Conquering the Vile Organ: FAIL. Making enough extra money to bail us out: FAIL. Trying to stop drinking/smoking: FAIL. Hell, even the antidepressants failed! THAT is a serious FAIL.

I mean, really? REALLY? There is precious little I’ve done in the past few years that is NOT a failure. Then I look around and the whole goddam world is failing. Everything.

Well, when I put it like that, I guess there’s a reason I’m off my game lately, eh? Let the WHINING BEGIN. Continue reading “Gloom, despair…”