Bloggin’ On: Thoughts Upon a Late September Sunday in 2020, or: The Love Gone Wrong Blues
Bloggin’ On: Thoughts Upon a Late September Sunday in 2020
 |
| Image by AbsolutVision |
Hi there, Dear Reader. I’m sorry that I have not been as active
here as I used to be; writing material for A Certain Point of View, Too is
consuming much of my writing time, and it is not often enough that I can create
content for two blogs in one day. If a Trump supporter had not gotten bent out
of shape over some of my more vocal political posts that I shared on Facebook
back in March, I wouldn’t have needed to create a “sister blog” on WordPress
and we’d be well past the 1,355-posts mark by now.
Indeed, just getting to the 1,355-posts mark has been a
struggle for me: I don’t really want to repeat myself on two blogs by creating
semi-duplicate content on a daily basis, and sometimes I am just so tired of
sitting at my desk and staring at a computer screen all day that I. Simply. Can’t.
Write. For. Two. Blogs. On. The. Same. Day.
 |
| My old neighborhood in South Florida. It's probably hot and humid there, too. Photo by the author |
Anyway, here in my corner of Florida it is a hot and extremely
humid day. Per my computer’s Weather App, the temperature outside the house is
89˚F
(32˚C)
under mostly sunny skies. With humidity at 66% and a 5 MPH/8 KPH breeze blowing
from the east-southeast, the feels-like temperature is 102˚F
(39˚C).
The forecast for the afternoon calls for more clouds and some thunderstorms are
expected to roll through the area in the evening.
 |
| Image by Jms3082 from Pixabay |
I wish I were financially independent and could afford to
buy my own place, preferably in a neighborhood without a Homeowners’ Association
(HOA) and its related monthly fees. My once-happy relationship with L has
soured, and even though we are still “friends” and she wants to keep taking
care of me, I really want my own house and not have to deal with L’s constant
drinking and all of the issues that stem from it. I miss having my own place,
but unless I can write a book that will sell well, that’s not going to happen.
At least, not soon enough to improve my mood or domestic situation.
 |
| Image by Paul Brennan from Pixabay |
I did look up some properties that would fall into the $50,000-$70,000
range, and I even found a couple, but they are either mobile homes
(trailers) or are located in an HOA gated community. If I had enough disposable
income I would not mind HOA fees, but I don’t. So….it looks like I am stuck
here, at least for the foreseeable future.
Ever since L reconnected online with a guy from her past
named A, things between us deteriorated badly. I mean, the relationship has not
been on a sound foundation for a while; we clicked at first five years ago when
she used to go to Miami to help me in my failed attempt to fix up the townhouse
my mother left me after she died on July 19, 2015. We used to have a lot of fun together, and I
fell in love with her despite her affinity for alcohol and loud 1970s music.
I won’t get into the whole story about why L decided to turn
to A for love and affection; it’s too long and complicated, and there’s plenty
of blame that can be fixed on both of us, not just L. Suffice it to say,
though, that what started out so well did not end well, especially once this guy
from L’s past entered the picture.
 |
| Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay |
I spend most of my offline time at night alone now. L. goes
into the master bedroom and closes the door so she can video-chat with A
uninterrupted and in private. I am left to fend for myself out in the common
room to watch TV or go to the living room to read. As a result, I’m lonely and
depressed, which means that I’m irritable and prone to anger. And that, Dear
Reader, is not a good thing.
Of course, the COVID-19 pandemic is also a factor. I have
mentioned here and elsewhere that L works from home now, and since the house’s
size and layout play havoc with the WiFi router signal, I have to go offline
during L’s 8 AM-5 PM office hours. I have learned to cope, but it still means
that I am not able to feel connected,
even virtually, to the outside world for much of the day.
If things had gone right with L and the domestic situation
here was good, I wouldn’t be half as bothered by this. But things went wrong –
badly – and I don’t think they are going to improve unless I can leave.
But unfortunately, I can’t leave.
Today I plan to fill out the absentee ballot I received
yesterday in the mail. There’s no way on God’s green earth that I am going to
vote for Donald Trump or any of the major national-level Republicans on the
ballot. I do need to borrow a pen with BLACK ink, as the machines that
read the “fill-in-the-bubble” ballots do not allow for the use of blue or
purple ink.
Comments
Post a Comment