The Bad Luck Continues, Hanging Me Over The Precipice.

It's been a real struggle as of late and today pushed me over the edge.


Up until today, the car has been leaking oil again. The mechanic is so fed up he refuses to see my car for at least another month, probably longer.


I was recommended for a cruise gig and did the first interview which ended very positively and with the affirmation that they were in dire need of people like me to fill empty positions. Never heard back. It's been over a year and a half since I had actual work now.


So watching the credit card rise still, with no hopes of a job on the horizon that can pay my rent and debts.


Been struggling just to get enough sleep. Always something, but normally Denny Crane that prevents me from getting a full nights sleep. Day after day and I'm so exhausted that even coffee can barely keep my eyelids open, let alone give me the concentration to look for and apply to jobs. Going to bed every night with high hopes of the 'morrow and waking up aggravated and tired every morning.


Today I woke up, donned a sweater for the morning chill and wandered into the kitchen to open the patio door for Denny Crane to go outside. I put the coffee on and stumbled through putting clean dishes away and feeding the avoracious dog.


Then I turned around to go open the blinds to the living room to see what it looked like outside, and something seemed off. There is a giant (5 person) heavy all metal bench right in front of the window. I used a large blanket to cover it so it looked nicer and was also slightly more comfortable to sit on. I also had the idea of storing my bike behind it (covered completely by the blanket) and locked to the steel window bars (inside locked garage doors). What looked odd was that the garage door was partially open and the cover on the bench was completely removed; and the bike was gone. The lock had been cut and someone had lifted the bike up and over the car to take it out of the garage.


I'm screaming inside job from the "boys" upstairs since the bike was impossible to see from the road. I also haven't used it in months since my medical scare so no one watching every day would know I was hiding it there either.


But, the boys upstairs broke the garage door a few days ago, refuse to take responsibility for it, and now my bike is gone.


Hundreds and hundreds of dollars. My main form of transportation while my car is leaking oil. My small piece of happiness to go biking in the woods (which I'd actually planned to do tomorrow for the first time in months, so ironic timing).


All gone. And welcome to Mexico. The police are worth sh*t and I will never get my bike back even though it was stolen from inside the property.


To compensate for the emotional trauma of the day; eating pizza. It's all I can do. Then I can hope to go exercise tomorrow.

And with the continued failure of job acquisition and continued accumulation of debt for living expenses, there is no way I can afford another bike. So I get to sit at home staring out at the bench that once guarded and protected my bike as I cry myself to sleep.


It was fun while it lasted, or while I was sick and got to store you more than enjoy you (literally only got to go mountain biking one freakin time) ... RIP my beautiful Trek :'(



RECENT POSTS:
SEARCH BY TAGS: