A Year of Mostly Bad Tidings

I couldn’t decide which picture best sums up my year, how I feel-

The symbolism is up to you

Or a simple visual of my financial state-

My monthly home mortgage

Lately I have been so worried about worldly matters I have actually stopped considering my survival index.

By the way, the final result of my official psi experiment involving Russel Targ’s ESP trainer app for the iphone is:

10,008 trials with a p value of .024

So there you have it. I guess I fit right in there with all the other psi experimentation. Which is to say that it is an interesting result that can easily be ignored by someone who doesn’t want to believe it. A rather compelling result. If the p value were extremely low, you would know the app was rigged or I made some error. If the p value was higher you would know I have no esp. So .024 is about right. I would have preferred it to have stopped at .01, but I will settle for .024, which gives me a reason to continue suspecting that psi is probably true. Maybe I’ll do another 10,000.

But psi makes little difference when you owe more on your mortgage than your house is worth, and it will be years before your house can be sold for what you bought it for, and you still owe on a student loan. The trash can above is the 500 or 600 dollars I throw away each month. If you factor in the interest on my student loan that I could be paying off with that extra money you would have to turn each of those ones into 100 dollar bills to tally how much I am pissing away. Pissing my financial future away.

I am glad to be a very nonmaterialistic person. Give me a shelter, some books a computer and some guitar strings and I’m okay. But make me work until I’m 90 and we have problems.

On a lighter note, I noticed some cracks in the plaster wall of my bedroom along the vertical seams that weren’t there before. Then I noticed a couple of damp spots behind it and buckling of the plaster in one of the corners. Water seems to be getting through somehow on one side, but the corner where the plaster buckles is opposite the damp spot and dry. If it is just the plaster it is easily repaired. Finding the source of water must be done first but may be difficult. My worry is it could be some sort of shift in the foundation of the house which would mean another 10k in the waste basket totally uncovered by insurance (I looked it up). Remember when my crawl space flooded?

I want to sell my house as soon as financially possible, but to do so at a decent price I need to make thousands of dollars in repairs. And hopefully not over the ten thousand dollar range. What’s ten thousand here or there anyways? It’s like shoving a sword even further into a man’s chest when the tip is already poking a foot out his back.

I was invited to a Christmas eve party and somehow ended up in a church holding a candle and listening to a pastor say that (and this is almost a direct quote) /human beings don’t deserve love and hope and forgiveness and well being, but god gave it to them thanks to the sacrifice of Jesus/

I eyed the audience to see if anyone thought this was as preposterous as I did. I could handle the service before then, with the community gathering and apparent interest in positive values. But then it became clear it was just a thinly veiled societally accepted cult as the uninspired pastor droned various scriptural dogmas about the supremacy of the deity only to have the audience drone them back. “I believe this.. I believe that… da da da..” Everything was there but the pendulous stopwatch swinging on a chain in front of our eyes. It was a spiritually dead experience. This may have been the only time in my adult life I have attended such a service to see it and experience it with informed eyes, playing along. It became clear the only reason for such a place was to give hope and societal bonding to those going through divorce, financial hardship, illness, and fear of raising children. It was a protective creed in a defensive posture and not a creative proactive one.

We escaped and began drinking beer and wine and talking of our egoic exploits as though nothing transpired. And nothing did.

One person isolated me in the kitchen and drilled me over why I decided to not practice Chiropractic. Her tone was as if she was certain I was in the wrong. This question makes me feel identical to if someone were to ask “why did you divorce your wife I really loved her”. But they never know what they are doing. It has been a long time since I had to do this, and I just laughed out loud, knowing that no ground could be made, enjoying the incredulous expression on her face. Both of us thinking the other one doesn’t know what they are talking about. Myself knowing the issue is unworthy of discussion.

The next morning I called to wish my parents a Merry Christmas and my dad decided to go on and on about how much he likes his Chiropractor. How he doesn’t understand why I didn’t practice. It is a divorce that never truly ends. You can escape your own past but other people cannot. Like a drug addict who exits a rehab center they are advised to cut ties with the same friends that enabled their behavior before. When I decided to get out of Chiropractic I burned almost all bridges and cut ties for the same reasons. Because everyone did nothing but try to tell me there was something wrong with me for not practicing.

I told my dad I would rather go to jail for a couple of years than practice Chiropractic, which is true. It is a physical impossibility for me to enter that world again. But the past won’t let me go no matter how far beyond it I am personally. As my retirement fund is used to support an institution I reject and a group of white collar criminals , the end of my indentured servitude is not in sight.

Everyone tells me that I am very smart and very capable and that somehow I can use my abilities to make more money. This makes me even more frustrated because I have not discovered a way yet.

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