This was only a test...
Not one half-hour after I finished penning the last post (had to be sometime Friday night, I think - because I write all this out longhand and it waits 'till
rampallion is able to type them in... so what looks like twenty posts in as many minutes might really be that, or it might be the collected musings of a week or more), but my fragile, newfound optimism budlet got slapped with a chilly blast of Arctic Real. I'd been confused on the date of the long-distance (I was sure it was due the 16th, not the 12th!), so we had none. Then, we got a disconnect notice for the internet, even though it's a monthly auto pay and I was looking at the bank statement showing this month was paid.
Breathe. Hold. Breathe some more. Sing a round of "All Will Be Well." Lather. Rinse. Reapeat.
So our housemates pool their resources and say (to paraphrase), "You're coming through for us, so we can stay in school and deal with our (various) mishegoss. So, this month we'll kick in some more here, if you'll let us."
Compared to previous co-housing nightmares, this was a stunner. And most welcome. Helpful, supportive, respectful...yes, and even appreciative.
Wow.
And the disconnection letter? Seems that LOTS of people got those. By mistake. They're so sorry.
This was a test of the Emergency Anxiety Attack System. Had this been an actual emergency, I'd be popping a wee little peach colored xanax tab...and you wouldn't be able to read this.
Instead, I get to keep on keeping on. I'm not used to this optimism thing, and "fake it 'till you make it" only works for affirmations. I'm not faking. I'll never be Little Mary Sunshine. But I'm not exactly the misanthrope I've been, either.
rampallion is able to type them in... so what looks like twenty posts in as many minutes might really be that, or it might be the collected musings of a week or more), but my fragile, newfound optimism budlet got slapped with a chilly blast of Arctic Real. I'd been confused on the date of the long-distance (I was sure it was due the 16th, not the 12th!), so we had none. Then, we got a disconnect notice for the internet, even though it's a monthly auto pay and I was looking at the bank statement showing this month was paid.
Breathe. Hold. Breathe some more. Sing a round of "All Will Be Well." Lather. Rinse. Reapeat.
So our housemates pool their resources and say (to paraphrase), "You're coming through for us, so we can stay in school and deal with our (various) mishegoss. So, this month we'll kick in some more here, if you'll let us."
Compared to previous co-housing nightmares, this was a stunner. And most welcome. Helpful, supportive, respectful...yes, and even appreciative.
Wow.
And the disconnection letter? Seems that LOTS of people got those. By mistake. They're so sorry.
This was a test of the Emergency Anxiety Attack System. Had this been an actual emergency, I'd be popping a wee little peach colored xanax tab...and you wouldn't be able to read this.
Instead, I get to keep on keeping on. I'm not used to this optimism thing, and "fake it 'till you make it" only works for affirmations. I'm not faking. I'll never be Little Mary Sunshine. But I'm not exactly the misanthrope I've been, either.