autotelic, autistic, assonance-hole©.

Autumn Adjustments & Angsts

I’ve been out of work since April. Between medical issues (which, naturally, aren’t bad enough to put me on disability but are bad enough to make a “normal”, on-site job too much for me), the growing inability to camouflage my age (50+) from potential employers, and the stress related to both, I’m pretty much a nervous wreck.  

Add to this that my amazing and loving husband, while clearly both, is also high functioning autistic/aspie who, quite literally, is not in a place from which he can pick up my slack, and well, long story short: 

We have to sell the house. Or go bankrupt. Candidly, depending on how well the house sale goes, perhaps both. 

Oddly, I am ok with all of it. It’s as well, since it is what it is and that ain’t changing.  

We’re going to look at apartments closer to where hubby works over this weekend, with an eye toward moving out and listing the place via Redfin immediately thereafter.  

Yes, I know it’s a bad time of year to be trying to sell. My hope is that, between the lack of housing, growth and demand in this area, great schools of this area, and a decent price, we’ll be sold of house, paid off of all debts (!!) and settled into our “new life” before the end of the year.  

From there, the slow plod of saving up for the “final home”, whenever and wherever that may turn out to be.  

I’m not “happy” about it all, but neither am I “sad”. Mostly, I’m just annoyed that working so hard and doing all the right things has, once again, not been enough to keep us from a mess.  

As for me, I’m not sure if I’m going back to work. I mean, frankly, I have a kind of “fuck you all” mindset about our increasingly corporatist country and I don’t see that perspective being challenged (let alone changed) in the near future, by all available analysis/research. 

I could add more (couldn’t we all, really?), but why would I? (Not that I haven’t already in my head, but it does begin to sounds rather pitiful and that’s not my intention.) 

This too shall pass, I survive until I don’t, and if the world insists on being disinterested in what I have to offer, that’s on them.  

Now I just have to figure out what I want to do next (or if I want to do anything). I’m sure this physical idle will not last long… it never does.