It’s been really difficult to squeeze in any time for blogging these days. I know plenty of people make this claim, but hear me out.
Back in September, I lost my kid. I don’t mean I took my kid to the store and she wandered off and I freaked out and screamed until she came out from in between a bunch of hanging Gap blouses. I mean, my child died. I had only been pregnant for about 6 months and then she came and after her brief time on the planet, she wound up having to go and become part of the stars or where ever it is we end up. Stardust.
This has basically set the tone for my life for almost 4 months now. The first 2 months I spent in a near comatose state, honestly. I spent a lot of time heavily medicated playing mindless computer games and trying not to think. My husband worked hard during this time, but in a world that doesn’t give a fuck about people’s personal losses, he eventually found himself unemployed. With no income coming in, things got especially tight. I was able to find a job at a marketing agency but later learned they would only be paying me once a month at the end of the month, which would not fly. They were also a Christian marketing company whose owners thought it was office appropriate to discuss Bible passages and spew hateful rhetoric and racist/bigoted remarks about non-Christians. I kept my mouth shut and works through it, but eventually the holidays came and I quit once I found a steady position at a magazine back in my hometown (Miami).
Meanwhile, I had found a freelance position with a company called Mobifusion who claimed they wanted a writer/editor for a small project. The payout was good-had the work actually been what they said it would be. Instead, it wound up being a complete and total mess of disorganized Excel documents for me to somehow merge together into one, plus having to create a bunch of work from scratch. My rent and our livelihood was dependent upon that project. I worked all through the holidays and all of New Year’s Eve and day just to get this project done and have it pay out before January 5th (rent due date). They wound up “dating” a check for my on January 9th, sending it over, and then allowed it to bounce without even giving me the courtesy of telling me it would. They claimed my work was “unacceptable” and basically attempted to blame all of their mistakes on me. Basically, they fucked me out of $1200+. After I complained, they said they would “settle” and acknowledge I did “some” work and would send me a check for half the sum. I’m still waiting on that check.
But get this, listen to what happens next. As a direct result of their screwing me out of payment, we lost our beautiful apartment in Sanford. We wound up having to pack up everything in order to avoid an eviction. See, we were already planning to move down to Miami anyway, but wanted to get squared away with the former renters. Instead, we had to get kicked out.
During our weekend to pack up all our belongings and try to find a home for our cat, I wound up getting deathly ill with a terrible stomach flu that had me vomiting every hour on the hour for a whole day and feeling weak and queasy even today, almost a week later. J.B., with the help of another friend of ours, packed up everything. We spent everything we had to move back to my folks place, which is currently now housing 3 families. I am writing from my brother’s old bedroom, which is stacked to the ceiling with boxes. My life is uncomfortable, cramped, stressful, and tiresome right now. But it won’t be always.
I hate to make excuses, but this is why I haven’t been blogging as much. But I know that good times are ahead. I know that we will persevere through all this shit. In another 2 paychecks, my finances will begin to stabilize. In another few weeks, J.B. will also be banking and together we will find a new home to make for us from the shitstorm that has been our lives since Maggie’s death.
Maggie will never know how much she affected us, how much her existence continues to mark everything I do every single day. She is merely a freed spirit that came around and made us smile for just a little while. I still have her ashes by my bed. I still think of her every day. I still hate when I bring her up and it makes people uncomfortable. I still want to sue the hospital that somehow didn’t see it fit to put me on the contraction machine the day before I went in to labor when I knew something was wrong. I am bitter, angry, and strong. I will persevere.
So as you can see, I am still very much a writer. In fact, I get paid to write these days. So things aren’t all bad. I am learning lots every single day. I am getting my strength back and getting ready to kick life’s ass again. She really had me down there for a while, but there’s no where else to go but up when you’re that far down.
Here’s a little 90’s tune to get this shit started. Let the blogging begin!