We're Never Gonna Survive Unless We Get a Little Crazy

There was nothing glamorous about my first day on the road. I slept in the car in a church parking lot with my leather jacket for a blanket and my forearm for a pillow, curled in a fetal position in the back seat. I didn't sleep much. The first night you notice every sound and the street lights keep you awake. You've got to get good and tired to sleep in a car. Most of all you have to avoid the cops. They love to harrass people who are struggling. They'll ask a lot of embarrassing pointless questions and search you, be as demeaning and bullying as possible.

I waited till light and went over to work and used the wifi in the game room until ten, then went over to the pawn shop and tried to hock my golf clubs for meal money. They had six sets over in the corner and shook their heads. Then I played poker at the library. It was a grind all day and I couldn't get any traction. I avoided trouble for most of a tournament until I got shortstacked and had to gamble and then someone behind me would either wake up with a hand or flop one. I hate taking the worst of it. I hate it even more when I get my money in in the right situation but it doesn't break right. Cards don't run in a linear way. You run good for a while and everything works, then for a day or two it seems like you're constantly getting burned.

I've been beating the game for small steady money for a couple of months now, about a hundred a week. There's an opportunity cost pursuing a poker dream, though. It takes a lot of hours to squeeze out those small profits. We had a beautiful week of early spring weather these last few days but I didn't get outside once. The cherry blossom trees have started to bloom but I haven't taken a single walk. I need the money. I can't help but feel maybe Marie and I would have done a little better if I'd given her more time and affection instead of having my face buried in a laptop. We really needed the money though. With my job and her unemployment we were falling further behind every week. I get collection calls and late notices and wind up taking payday loans and cash advances, just a disastrous enslaving cycle of playing catchup.

At work they're instituting a new sales quota and my days are numbered. I just can't bring myself to suggest new products to people who are already pissed about the old ones. I'm very mechanical on the phone anyway. A robot. A drone. An effecient complaint-taking machine. I try to use a polite tone but I dread every minute of it. I work with very nice, earnest, sincere people but most of the customers are indignant and nasty and contentious. I really want to solve their service problems but often it seems they want to make someone suffer first. Sometimes it gets personal and full of stress.

My big dream is to win the three dollar rebuy, about seven to ten thousand in one chunk. What would that mean? Breathing room. A chance to come up for air. Of course it isn't enough to solve all my problems but it's enough to create some opportunity and choices, to make some headway and break out of the cycle of drudge.

I'm supposed to meet Thomas and Stephanie and the grandkids for breakfast tomorrow but I don't know where and my phone is broken. I hope Steff checks in on the blog, and I hope she's willing to buy me breakfast. I wired myself an installment from Pokerstars but it won't hit my account till Monday, I think. I tried to sell my Bible and dictionary at Powell's but they didn't want them. The dictionary was too old and the Bible had highlighted passages. I have another one in my desk at work. I nearly sold my soul for a dollar menu cheeseburger but reason and circumstance intervened.

Marie packed my things today and sent me an email telling me I could come by and get them. We were both grieved and hurt and frustrated, and skirted around all the arguments one more time but avoided letting to come again to full flame. She is a strong, amazing, alluring woman. I will never forget her and never replace her. But our life together, for a variety of reasons, kept turning out crazy dangerous and sad. I hurt her in ways she could never forgive or forget. She wounded me in her hurt, in ways so searing and painful I could never breathe without anxiety and fear. In the beginning we were a fairy tale and by the end we were combustible and exhausted and shaken to our core. I've never loved anyone so much or so poorly. I miss her. I wish we could close our eyes and be ten thousand dollars richer and waking up with forgiveness and possibility and hope. Part of me wants to run home this very second and lie down with her in our bed. Part of me knows we'd probably repeat all our sad mistakes all over again. I wish I could have made this right.

For me, I just have to get to Monday and then to payday. I did a light workout and showered at the gym. For dinner I had four squares of Valentine chocolate. Today I tried hocking my golf clubs at Beaverton Pawn, selling my driver at Play It Again Sports, then selling the books, but nobody was buying. The Pawn Shop offered me another loan on the laptop but the laptop is the seed corn, the lifeline. I'll wait till Monday, check the account again in the morning.

Weekends are easy for sleeping in your car. Businesses are closed so there are all these empty business parks and not a lot of activity. It's easier to not be noticed. I don't have anywhere to go, not really. There's my family but I burned those bridges long ago.

I stay connected with free wi-fi and keep in the game. I'll try to squeeze out a few wins and when things settle down I'll take some time to reflect. I'm 55 this year. More and more it looks like I'll wind up like the old man. Life is so strange and it passes so quickly. We all just want a little comfort and hope, but it's so easy to lose your way. Perhaps I should restudy the law of attraction and try to identify a workable destiny in all this chaos. Right now, I just need some sleep.