10:08pm... and long overdue at that. A warning: This blog does have the potential to make you crazy, bcause I'm in one of those speeding-sleepy moods where 50 things are running thru my melon all at once, and I feel the need to vent about all of it here. Becasue it's been pent up for three solid weeks. In which I cannot account for much, including why I haven't written. Honestly, when I thoght about another day going by and I hadn't had a new entry, I told myself there wasn't anything worth writing about. Kinda true. It's been quiet the last few weeks. And then, whoosh. The weekend occurred, I had coffee when I shouldn't have, and Gossip Girl tonight got me so jazzed up, I feel like writing again. Voila!
I'm such a fucking idiot. I don't think I've ever sworn in this blog before, and I'm not even sure it's allowed, but I am. And about the worst things too, like important, costly things, like cars? I got my car this weekend. The dealer guys just "happened" to figure out how to get me over there for some mundane paperwork and ta da! It turned out I was driving home in my new vehicle. Which I love, by the way, and am so damned proud of myself for buying. It's mine, you know? In my name. My financing. My money. I did it. Sort of.
Which, it turns out, I know jack about. I was stunned by the surprise, so much so that I walked out of the dealer with arguably the biggest hose job of a financing deal ever known to man. Haha, the worst part about it was that I was there for it. it's not like I wasn't in the room. My fucking signature was all over the place, in about 50 different places. And what does Marguerite know about financing? Nada. Zilch. I get home, like a moron, thinking I'm going to surprise my family. And I did, for about 5 minutes. Until my stepfather had to point out that I'd be paying an extra eight grand in interest over six years of life. Among other things. And I like, could not account for myself. The items on the bill, the warranties, the extras, the maintenance plan. I didn't even know what I had bought. The last three hours that had gone by were like, fuzz in my brain. I was there, but not there. And I royally screwed myself.
The tantamount realization of what I had done to myself, and the money the finance lady made off of me, made me cry. I was hungry, tired, exhausted, excited, and scared too. The fact that I can be so cavalier with money I don't even have, scares the hell out of me. And I didn't even think, you should call your parents. You're in over your head. That thought never crossed my brain. Who the hell am I? I know next to nothing. Apparently I don't know how to ask for help either about monthly payments that will be my friends as I turn 30. Thank god I don't do drugs. I'd be dead. I mean it.
I was shell shocked, and slept horribly. I couldn't even enjoy my car. Not properly. So, like a five year old, my stepdad drove down with me to dealer to fix my financing. And of course, it's better than I could have imagined. Oh, and I vaguely recall my mother saying something about dumb blonde stereotypes. But who could blame her? I am. The result was not worth doing it alone. The worst feeling I have ever experienced happens when I know I'm miserable, and it's my fault I'm that way. When you dick yourself over. It's so disheartening.
So, it's fixed now. But there are realities to face. I'm like, a disgrace for an adult. I've never done a walk of shame like the one I did Sunday morning. I just know the finance lady who tried to rook me took one look at me and my parent and thought, that spoiled bitch brought her father along to take my commission back! Haha, and we did. I felt like a little girl going to the principal's office. Sigh. I have so much to learn. Ugh, and then she said my hair was nice.... I wanted to die. Literally die of embarrassment. My hair is not nice! I am a scoundrel, and a fool, and an idiot chick. Where is my brain? I'm a walking cliche.
Compounded on the fact that I'm thinking of moving back north. Insert laughter. Like I can really handle my life on my own. I should be so lucky to be that fifty year old who lives with her parents. I always knew that was my destiny. And I proved it to myself. Never mind the fact that there's nothing for me here. And I sit around thinking, first flight, anywhere. Despite the beautiful weather.
Compounded by the fact that my students don't know what prepositions are and half of them flunked the midterm. I was so sad when I graded those exams. I did a bad job this semester, for sure. My brain was somewhere else half the time. Still is. Yes, the class is remedial. Yes, half the students are ESL. Yes, half of them would have a hard time reading this blog aloud. But that doesn't mean they can't learn! I let them go early too much, I didn't drill them enough. I've taught this class four times, and it's never been this bad. I don't feel like I have a handle on it, either. I can't even find the freakin final exam. I lost it. They want to know what topics are on it, and I can't even tell them. I am inept indeed.
God, this entry is depressing. Ha, sorry for the malaise. it does feel good to vent, though. I didn't have a bad day, but I've had a weird last few days. I thought I had it all together. But I keep screwing myself, and then I get so pissed at myself when I realize I don't have crap together. I'm disgusting. I really am. I nauseate myself sometimes.
Positive things, before I maim myself while listening to Everybody Hurts on loop....
My thesis is going so well. I interviewed a woman who openly swears, had cancer and still smokes, and thinks a positive attitude is the best medicine. I hope she's right. I'm on track to finish up maybe by the end of this year. Relief-gasm. I have three other interviews lined up. I need 8. But I like the research. it's fun.
I adore my car. I love looking at it, it makes me laugh. The sound system is bitchin. And at 44 mph, I get 99.9 mpg.
Thanksgiving is coming up. Oh, I love it.
And of course, there's more. But I'm tired.