I need to pay my bills.
I keep rearranging them into new, more attractive stacks.
But I can't open them.
There's something about parting with what's left of my money that I'm against.
Something about that doesn't sit well with me.
There are now two of me. One who pays the bills on time, and one who, no matter what, can't allow the bank account to sink below a certain point.
Even as it gets horrendously down to the wire, I notice I am talking myself into accepting this new state of "not paying bills".
It's ok, I think, I'm broke. There's nothing I can do. And, I don't have any problems, only the perception of problems.
There's even been a few, "in a couple of years we will all laugh about this" - interjected, here and there.
All desperate little platitudes that even I don't buy.
I've caught myself doing things to throw off worrying for a while. Like taking Excederin PM as early as 7pm - or establishing breaks from "all thinking".
But, it doesn't work.
Even while asleep, there is a strange new brand of bad dream to contend with = my subconscious is not ok with any of this.
And, I'll admit, even while I was working, doing my bills made me anxious.
I had to first clear a space.
This was an excuse. A time waster that made sense and was seemingly neither "bad" nor "crazy".
While I did this - I would add some super-sane domestic treat (wrapped up in a task) - like making coffee.
Yes. I needed to make some coffee, but first I needed to wash the pot.
I would do this by hand - because it's always much better that way.
This very naturally led to washing all of the dishes.
Which led to cleaning the entire kitchen. Sweeping, mopping - possibly, laundry.
By the time I finished, making coffee was out of the question.
It was now late afternoon. No. What I needed now was a salad.
This required washing and chopping vegetables.
But first, I needed to select some music. Which (in and of itself) required that I first put away all of my wayward discs.
And this had to be done with care.
And sometimes required windex - as discs, as well as their cases, can become dusty - even in just a few days.
So, I would put my discs away (in a semi-alphabetical order that made sense to me, but bothered me for not being purely alphabetical) and when I was done, I would find some music that might put a better spin on my bill paying.
But first - I would eat.
And whenever I was done eating, I would run out (just for a few minutes) as, by then, I certainly needed something from the store, like aspirin or vodka.
So that, once I had returned, I could clear a space (on the table) so as to do my bills.
This meant folding, possibly filing - and otherwise putting things away.
And then, and only then, in a quasi-calm state that was meant to suggest (to me - nobody else was there) that none of this was making me the least bit anxious, I could begin doing my bills.
At this point I always liked to imagine myself as this "woman doing her bills".
Routine. No flashing lights. No sirens.
It didn't matter that I really was a woman doing her bills - it felt otherwise.
I need to pay my bills.
But first, I need to clear a space.