. You Never Know When They Will Catch Up To You

 I just made what would have been a hilarious joke on social media, if only the one other person who would get it would have been around to read it.  

There was a time, long ago, when Master and I were only dating, around a millenium ago, and we were shopping for some fruit. I  was saying something about how I really only like perfect fruit and sometimes it's just bland but you don't know until you bring it home and then it's too late. 

  And he said "Oh, well, let's just taste these blueberries and then we'll know."  He opened up one of the blueberry packets and took out a couple and ate them.  I was horrified and said in a mock-whisper "Oh no, they are going to get you now!" and he said "Who? The blueberry police?" and that started a fit of giggles that went with us through the whole store until check out.  They never stop. They always get you in the end.  Yes, the blueberry police are still after us! And they have continued to be after us ever since.  Only Master has outwitted them.  But I was an accomplice and thus just as guilty.  

Hustlin and Hustlin

A lot of people have had to start their life over when the world ended on them in one way or another.  A lot have had the crash hit worse than mine so I don't want to sound like I'm special or unique or anything.   But. 

In 2021 my world did come crashing down.  In addition to being my love, my soulmate, my best friend, my Master, my Leader, my guide to living, he was also my physical, financial and emotional support.  
I had a dependence on him that went through everything I did.  Thank God for the therapist we went to while he was in treatment for cancer that gave me the confidence that I could face life like a warrior.  Without her mantras and drawing things out of me... I don't know... I might be a collapsed butterfly in a hurricane.  I might have given up on life entirely.

But today when I talk to family members who ask me how I'm doing I don't have to lie and say "fine" and "ok" even though really I was falling down completely emotionally or barely holding it together.  Many days I actually am fine, ok, or even good.   I still miss my Master unbearably, when I'm home, when I'm out and see something he would have loved to see or to hear about, at night, in the evening, just random times during the day.  But when I'm not struck by those pangs of pain and lonlieness I do feel like I am pretty good.  I feel like have great friends who have stood with me, cried with me, been there for me.  My kids are doing well, growing up at a rapid pace. 

I started going to kink events now that covid is declared "endemic" instead of "pandemic".   I went to an event in January and just yesterday, both of them with a couple of friends, and we played together.  It was super fun.  

My work is going better than I imagined.  I had been very dispirited and hopeless about finding a job back when my Master was encouraging (requiring) me to look for one.  I rarely got any response to my resumes.  But then after my Master  passed away, his boss offered me a job.  It didn't pay a lot and it wasn't anything prestigious, but I jumped at it as a step up from working for the temp agency with whom I had started a job the month before.  

Since then I have been hustling and hustling to make my budget work.  In case you are wondering, the household finances took an 80% cut in income from the peak of Master's earning (before he was sick) compared to what I could get at a temp agency.    Look at your current household salary and take 80% of it away.  Kinda bleak, huh?

We had spent a lot of our money on medical bills.   Without being given a sum of money by my parents and also Master having life insurance I would have gone broke.  But thankfully that didn't happen, and by budget slashing and various means (social security) I haven't really used very much of that money for the day to day living.  Plus, the job with his old boss has several perks and raises already that really help me out. Last month I went from part time (32 hours a week) to full time (35 hours a week). According to the official poverty line I'm still below it, but I feel like I have enough to get by and do the fun things I would like to do.  Fuck saving every cent for when I'm eighty though.  

Maybe I won't live that long. 

 We are only hear to find joy and help others, aren't we?