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.
Then there’s my right hand man, my love, strength, everything, but he has his own life before me and I’m needy 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. Right before I move in my car stops dead 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. Then two weeks later, I dislocate my knee cap, again. Ambulance ride, ER visit and follow up appointments… How hell can I afford this? Certainly can’t with my low paying job. My boss didn’t even acknowledge me at work THE NEXT DAY. Yes, I went to work 15 hours post-ER visit. (Thanks for the support! Not.) Anyway, my 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.