A Royal Fucking

Our furnace broke down last night.

We had dinner plans with Jason and Karen. As we were getting ready to go I popped into the itty bitty downstairs bathroom. The half bath. Around 5:00 o'clock.

This is a wintertime sauna. The space is about as big as the fingernail on your pinky finger. BUT it has a heating vent. If you are in there with the door closed and the furnace cranks up, the temperature rises to 244 degrees. Which is fine with me because I hate being cold.

The catch last night was that the blower was blowing cold air. I checked the vent in our bedroom and it was also blowing cold air. And blowing and blowing and blowing. The blower kept running, the furnace did not fire up. Called the furnace dude who said he would pop by in a couple of hours. We cancelled dinner plans.

We got heat back around 9:30. Not that big a deal, it wasn't that cold last night. The big deal is that it cost us $1,500. Let me put that another way. FIFTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS.

Fucked by my car, fucked by the furnace. In a five day span.

I am trying to figure out how to deal with this. I was anxious/depressed from Saturday to Monday last week, full blown depressed and furious since Tuesday last week, and over the top suicidal last night.

Can't go on like this. Unhappiness is eating away my insides like acid. I am wasting days.

How do I make myself happy? How do you do it? How do you find happiness amidst steaming piles of shit?

I gotta lighten up. This is probably the most important piece of the Joe Testa Reclamation and Restoration project. If I can feel happy in between the rancid moments, my life would be so much better.

I am going to try to let this all go today. My brain hurts. I will probably get my car back tomorrow. I like my car. I want it back. Last night cost $1,500, but we have the money.

In search of happiness. The pursuit of happiness. Those words conjure images in my mind of broken people, crawling over corpses, hands outstretched towards the word happiness, which is floating in thin air in front of them. Just outside their reach.

Happiness can only come to me if I wipe out in my mind forty years of my life. The forty years when I underachieved. The forty years I wasted. Happiness can only come if I focus 100% on NOW, and what is in front of me (ignoring visions of canes, walkers, wheelchairs, oxygen masks and diapers).

I need to speed up the process of change. I need an LSD moment. A brain explosion. I cannot continue to slog through the muck that clogs up my mind.

What to do, what to do.

Who the fuck knows. 

I surely don't.