Man Up!

Last week, my bank account took three overdraft hits, thanks to a double payment on my car that I made during my vacation, when I *thought* I had lost my payment coupon and check in its addressed, stamped envelope. But somebody in the airlines mailed it for me.

But at the time, I didn't come here to bemoan my fate.

Now, I'll be emptying out an account to pony up some scratch for my new living arrangements tonight. (I'll take either roommate situation, although I prefer the travelling musician and comicbook fan).

And I'm not bothered. I don't feel that yawning pit of nausea in my belly as I contemplate the next week and an half with only my savings. Because I know I can shop for food in a grocery store and cook and survive. I know I can live without Starbucks (they discontinued the Pomegranate Juice Blends anyway--the fools. I must have been the only person buying them). I know I have a license to do therapy in NY, and I know that I'm good at my job.

Thank yous for the love. If you wondered if you had any effect on me with your encouragement; you did. You do. I'm listening. And applying.

I'm on my way to finding me some real serious love out there. I am believing and accepting all the positive things people say about me. I'm about to be a force of one, and I'm going to knock some lucky lady's socks off.

I'm 42.

I've just begun.

In other news;
Holy crap! Tony Blair is out of 10 Downing Street! He resigned some weeks ago, and now he's gone.

It was always astounding to me how English leaders could get on the podium to speak, and be jeered and booed as though they were performing a particularly bad set at Caroline's. Parliamentarians ought to be ashamed one and all.