I’m not sure I even know where to begin…
I was asleep when the ball dropped – woke up when the kids all called for rides home at the same time. It took me three trips, and I drive a mini-van. That’s a lot of drunken 20-somethings…
That old saw about “how you ring in the New Year is an indicator of how your year will go” is flat-out bullshit, if my January has anything to say about it, by the way. I’d have thought January would be a calm and steady same-old, same-old kind of routine month.
The Hill Top Toy Store location closed down operation – this about a week or two after my “Official Transfer” back to Louie da Boss’ location. There was no notice to employees – just a mad scramble to relocate all the stock and amalgamate two staffs into one. There seemed to be WAAAAY more staff than allocated hours available… and mine were already dropping because of the after-Christmas lull… and my numbers were dismal when compared to the young hotshots surrounding me.
I gulped a little bit, when I asked Louie if he thought I should be looking for employment elsewhere. Just hedging my bets, you know. The only answer I could get out of him, was “You know as much as I know.”
That worry took a back burner when Kyla (The Evil Hypnotist) moved her father into her apartment.
The apartment below mine.
He was in process of leaving one place to find another and his timing was slightly skewed – he found himself a little short of a place to lay his head. So Ky moved him in, and began the process of helping him find a new place.
Thankfully, Terry and I get along pretty well (now), because, like me, he’s a smoker, and the only place he could smoke on the property without freezing his ass off was up in my Belfry. The amount of time he spent in my space made it incredibly easy to get him addicted to Netflix.
The amount of time he spent in my space also sort of meant it fell to me to make sure he was fed on a regular basis. Apparently cancer survivors must eat – and more often than they really feel like eating. His appetite was shot. I don’t eat properly myself if left to my own devices, so force-feeding him meant I ate too. This experiment has turned out pretty good – his appetite is back again now (shove enough food down a throat and a stomach seems to begin to expect it – who knew?), and I really think it might be possibly possible that I may be gaining some weight. Maybe.
A new abode was found! Ky, in her search for the Father-Perfect Apartment, found the most gorgeous, perfectly appointed, totally affordable flat around the corner from here – not even two minutes walk from my front door to its back door.
This apartment turned out to be perfect for Ky and her room-mates, not her dad. In the space of four days, the brood of 20-Somethings had moved out, lock, stock and barrel (and dog 🙁 ), having convinced Terry to take over their apartment, at least on a temporary basis.
Like he had a choice.
So here we are, oddly comfortable in the presence of exes, sharing expenses, budgeting and watching Netflix as our main hobby.
I really, really miss that dog, though…
Dog treats, at least, are affordable and plentiful, however, and we do get to dog-sit often. And we’re both a little better off financially because of the sharing of expenses, which is really, really lucky on account of the next
I shortly thereafter lost my J.O.B. – with no notice, but not a lot of surprise, truthfully.
I’m mostly relieved. I was SO. Tired. of that job. I’m also a little ahead of the game, rent-wise, at least.
My financial goal of Pre-Paid Living is hardly fully realized yet, but the rules I’ve written for that particular money game do seem to work. Eventually, the process will have funded another passive income stream as well, so I’m looking at all of this as a “one door closes and several more open up” kind of situation.
I do need to find another day job, though. That’s the next thing on my ever-growing list.
Now that I’m eating better, I’d kind of like to keep doing that.
Random Song-for-the-Day: “Uptown Funk!”- Mark Ronsen featuring Bruno Mars