Arbor Mist Melon and me

I am surrounded by towers of cardboard boxes, stacked nearly to the ceiling. The packing people have finally finished their arduous task of packing out the world's worst packrat, me. I could see fear in their eyes when they entered the Inner Sanctum of the Domestic Goddess, aka the sewing room. It took them a good four hours just to pack all the stuff in that one room.

Tomorrow, I return to the house I left two and a half years ago. I was asked to return by my ex. He knew I was struggling to get by on my government dole, and would never ask to come back after I had been the one to initiate the divorce. It was true. I have eaten far too many ramen noodles and cans of tuna to be healthy. I've lived on cheap macaroni and cheese and other delicacies from the Dollar Store. There were nights that the meal was homemade bread and a cup of tea. I didn't let on to most people that was how it was.

It's been rough. I've watched as my business has gone steadily downhill, because I have no capital with which to fuel new product. I fall in between the cracks of the system, because I live in a decent place that is not Section 8 housing. Due to that, I could not get food stamps. I refused to live in an unsafe, unsavory neighborhood, just to put more food on the table. The veritable rock and a hard place.

I'm exhausted tonight. The tv is now disconnected from the cable (but not my precious internet!) and my cookstove is obscured by the stacks of boxes in front of it. My phone has been transferred back to the house. The only thing left to do is to pack up what is in my desk, and disconnect the computer. That will happen in the morning, along with corralling three felines who will not be happy about it.

For now, I'm kicking back with the remnants of a bottle of cheap Arbor Mist Melon wine, and am going to adjourn to read some comics. After all, the new Daredevil came out today. ; )