I Am Furious

As she was leaving for work just now, Carol said the words that cripple me emotionally. We are broke. Told me to use the credit card for food shopping today to buy us some leeway. This infuriates me. I cannot stand living this way because I know I can do better. An additional $1000/month would lift us out of poverty. That's chump change and yet I can't seem to get there. Because I cannot function within society's parameters and I have done nothing with my writing. Yet.
There are two distinct and very identifiable reasons for our financial suffering. 1) In 1998 when our business went down the tubes I mismanaged our money and forced us to have to refinance the house to save it. We were three years away from owning the house outright. Now we are paying for it AGAIN. Paying for my goddamn house twice. Can you imagine how different our lives would be if we had no mortgage payment since 2001? 2) I am grossly underachieving. If I was just pulling the weight that I am capable of, we would be fine. But I wallow at the level of a teenager's wages.
This is the point where I used to give up. Even one year ago I would have a glass of whiskey in my hand right now. A couple of minutes ago I laughed at myself because I grabbed a bottle of water and gulped it down furiously just like I normally do with beer when I am angry. The water was trickling down my chin. But it wasn't beer. It wasn't whiskey.
I ain't done yet, Bubba. I will intensify my writing efforts because I know that it is an alternative way to make money and one that resonates with my soul. I refuse to get a second job as a Wal-Mart greeter. I've done the two job thing and so has Carol - it sucks. It is time for me to step up to the plate.
Vomiting in a blog is not enough. I will continue sending ideas to greeting card companies, intensify my poetry efforts, get myself into fiction and essays. There are markets for all of these things and I can DO all of these things. I refuse to lose and I refuse to do the typical mainstream soul torturing things that desperate people typically turn to to survive.
As King of The World I hereby decree every day to be 47 hours long. And I pledge to spend 46 of those hours doing things that will improve my life. I have the talent. I have the desire. Now I need the dedication. Mind blowing, exhaustion ignoring, soul deep belief-in-myself-fueled dedication.
Side note: One more instance where I thank god for Carol. I used to handle the family budget years ago. Every time I laid it out and realized we would have to get by on 38 cents over the next two weeks I would grab a bottle of whiskey and become an A#1 Supreme Asshead. Carol deals with it. She manages it. She makes it work. Without booze. Without drugs. How, I don't know.
And she continues to wait in the wings for me to rise up and ACHIEVE.
That time has come, my friends. I refuse to live like this anymore. Better to die standing up than to live on your knees. I will no longer settle for mediocrity.