Intolerable

I’m starting to realize I don’t belong anywhere, and the best thing I can do is stay away from people. I’m never going to stop being annoying, people are only going to barely tolerate me, and most secretly dislike me. I’m just too flawed a person. Someone told me I was an ‘incessant virtue signaler’ and that I can never figure out if ‘something’s a joke’ and that these are terrible qualities. Oh, and that I’m not a good writer.

Then, someone called me ‘creepy, ‘ and I was done.

I take jokes too far, and I’m often the punchline of other’s jokes. It’s just like in high school where I was the brut of every joke and I went along to be liked.

I’m so tired.

My Neighbor is Dead

We probably said about 100 words to each other the whole 8 years I lived here, but I am sad about it. He died Sunday at the hospital. One of his daughters told me. She said he kept to himself.

The fact that it’s September, that he died in the same hospital as my mother, and that they’re mourning his loss while trying to remove things from his apartment, all reminds me. Things in general feel pretty hopeless these days.

I saw him as I saw all my neighbors: as someone who could get me in trouble or talk about me. When someone new moves in, I will be convinced  that this new neighbor will be the one out for me.  You’d think I was psychotic as paranoid as I am. 

His life followed a trajectory I hope for. Only be removed from home when I’m dying. No nursing home. No muss, no fuss.

He did me a solid when I first moved in. I locked myself and my Dondee out of our apartment.  I was scared, too shy to knock anywhere, so I sat in the hallway with my cat debating what to do. Fortunately, my neighbor came home then, and had a maintenance guy on speed dial. I think he always made friends with maintenance, all 500 of them who passed through.

I knew he had been in the air force and a retired cop from his Facebook, that he liked soul. Most of what I knew about him, though, I knew from overhearing over the year. He was probably Domino’s’ most loyal customer, ordering every other day sometimes. I. Knew he wasn’t very mobile and had a lot of pain, was due for another stint in his heart. He didn’t like sounds in the hallway and hated solicitors. He kept up with friends a lot on the phone.

I’m going to miss him in a strange way.

Card Carrying Cat Lady

I saw my friend today in person. It’s been a few weeks. I was so happy.

In the back of my mind, though, the thought keeps going through my head: It’s because of the cats. She wouldn’t touch you with a 10 ft pole otherwise. And she came here today for a reason too.

She’s ordered us cards in case the worst happens. They say we’re each other’s emergency contact and that we have cats home alone. It will be a comfort to have, even though it’s macabre, and forever eulogizes my contribution to this world if I get mowed down by a bus. Cat lady.

She bought the cards when she thought covid was in one of the facilities she works at. It turns out it was just skin strep. When she thought it was Wuhan Scourge, she didn’t want to see me in person. I told her I didn’t care ( I figured I could wear a mask and hope for the best).

She told me, SHE CARED. Who would take care of the cats if both of us got sick?

I almost think Bat Flu is inevitable now. It’ll probably kill my fat, middle aged ass too. If I think too hard on it, that it may be here for the long run, I feel a bit overwhelmed. I can’t stop going out, though. When I’m out in the world, even though I don’t really interact with people much, I feel human. I even feel more comfortable with my mask on indoors. Smiling makes me self-conscious. Social distancing is my preferred mode. I like people, but I’m almost certain they don’t like me.

She once told me the reason her now dead boyfriend would call me for comfort was solely to manipulate her. I’d like to think he genuinely needed me, he was crying and sounded desperate. Everyone seemingly has an angle.

Ruth Bader Ginsberg died. It feels like we’ve been foresaken.

I Made It Through

I didn’t cry for my mom, but it hit me hard about Oscar suddenly.

My friend, his girlfriend, talks about him almost every day. Sometimes she even shows me pictures, but yesterday’s photo did me in. He’s in front of his family’s Christmas tree, proudly holding up a Guns ‘n Roses t-shirt he just opened. My brain then seemed to just then fully understand how dead he actually is.

I’m ruminating about a dear online friend who I offended and he never got over. If only I could take it back.

I’m worried that there are bedbugs. It may be fleas. I’m itchy everywhere. I honestly couldn’t take it if that ever happens again.

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Dear Mom,

In a few minutes, it’ll be 9 years since you’ve been gone. I sometimes wish the cold I had, had taken the same course as it did with you: pneumonia, sepsis, death. But what can you do?

If only you had seen the things that happened since you flew the coop. I can honestly say it’s better I stay away from people. They smell the vulnerability. It’s happened a couple times now. They act like you’re the best thing ever, and then…

I’m happy for my independence, but I don’t feel the same kind of safe as I did with you. I feel like everything and everyone is transient now. I’m afraid of so many things. It’s almost a given that I’m going to die sooner or later alone. Not many, if any, care about me to the degree I care about them. It is what it is.

I’m still so sleepy. Going back to bed. I will try to be a better person this year, but not right now. Now I sleep.

Love,

Lisa