Day after day after day, I wasn’t any happier living back in Maryland. Everyone kept asking me what I was going to be doing with my life. What made you all think I have it figured out just because I’m back in Maryland? In fact, because I’m here again I have it less figured out because I’m less motivated to figure it all out. I feel like I’m just existing again. Just blending. In a stationary routine…again.
Believe me I try to find reasons to be happy here; family, friends, safety, familiarity. But wait, no, I don’t think all of those things are what I need at all. Of course, spending some final time with my grandma is nice to do again, but we can’t go out and eat every week like we used to; can’t do it easily at least. It’s all a process now, and most days she doesn’t want to do anything. She’s also pretty bitter anymore. She finally made me cry. I had to take a break from seeing her.
We used to laugh a lot.
And then there’s my right hand man, my love, strength, everything. But he has his own life before me and I need too much these days. He can’t do it all, he tries, but he’s only human, and I don’t know that I’m right for him.
Then there’s my right and my left legs, my mom and dad. They got me where I needed to be in life and have always had my back. These two incredibly smart individuals somehow created, me this directionless 25 year old, but I still haven’t let them down. Anyway, they’re still young and I shouldn’t stick around for them just yet.
Then I wonder yet again why I’m here.
I think I have to stick it out a bit since I made the effort to come back here. Can’t possibly just turn around quite yet. So what do I do?
Find a year lease in the city to ensure I stay here. I find a few side gigs for some extra $ so that I can live a bit more comfortably. But before I move in what happens? My car stops in the middle of Harford Rd. My dad tells me he’ll pay for the $800 dollars of damage because he knows I have no money. That alone is a wake up call. Like hi Kaitlyn, your father is stilling paying for your shit. Regardless, I manage to pick up my car and pay a portion before he gets to the car shop. I did what I could.
I turn in my rental application. I’m still going to move. But then two weeks later I dislocate my knee cap. Again. Ambulance ride, ER visit, follow up appointments. How hell can I afford this? My ER doctor said surgery may be a good idea, too. My side gigs fall through because I can’t walk. I can’t even bathe myself and I have to move everything I own in three weeks. I search for jobs, apply, search, apply. Waiting for a miracle here. Oh wait, I also have to figure out what to get my Masters degree in too so that real life can start. But I have no idea what to do at this point.
I like writing. I’d like to write as a job, but is there real money in that? Not unless you’re really damn good at it. At this point all I’m good at is injuring myself and burying myself deeper into a black hole of debt.
Although, I’d really like to write for a living, but this blog doesn’t give me shit in return.
I guess I feel a little better at least.