Problem solver.

I suppose I shouldn't be impressed that no one's noticed that I've started regularly blogging again, for I'm trying to just sorta redevelop a voice and a habit of writing. This isn't really to be read, otherwise I would be less critical of myself because, frankly, that raw, self-loathing shit ain't attractive. And it isn't how I should be feeling. But, sometimes, it's how I've been feeling, so I'm using this blog to own it, to understand it and to deal with it.

I paid Capital One today. I'm dropping a check off with the Georgia Department of Revenue tomorrow, if everything goes according to plan. And then all these wage garnishment threats will stop. (It seems weird to me that I'm the one who had to show the state I didn't owe them $20,000, that I'm the one who got it argued down to a reasonable amount and that I'm the one who came up with a solution that wasn't wage garnishment. I mean, I'm not an accountant. I understand it was my responsibility to file on time. But shouuldn't the state notice glaring errors on a tax return before I do? Shouldn't the state think, "Oh my God, that can't be right?" Shouldn't the state be better at taxes than I am? It's like I'm in the Chinatown scene of "Chinatown." That's how messed up this got.)

Part of me wants rid of this money and all the bills paid so that I can just get the idea of "too much money" out of my head. I'm nervous having this much money all at once. I keep reminding myself, "Pay bills. Don't run off to Colorado. Don't buy a Kindle or an iMac. Pay bills."

I'm 34. I remember when my dad was 34, and we would visit on weekends. I think my dad was financially better off than I am at 34, but that might just be a trick of the light. I mean, he had child support and a girlfriend at my age. So he probably didn't have any money at 34 either.

It isn't always going to feel like this. I maybe need to start the social drinking again.

Someone on a listserve I subscribe to sent a very interesting e-mail about their troubles today. Once upon a time, such an e-mail would've set me off asking questions of the sender, thinking that everything about him was somehow my business and that I needed to know stuff to keep both of us safe. Now, though he's in my thoughts, I'm just sorta relieved that he's having troubles that aren't being caused by me and that I know it's none of my damn business.

There's relief in other people's troubles.