I’ve always said (along with many others) that, if there is a God, He is one unbelievably nasty, sadistic SOB. It would be just like God to have arranged events in this manner. After all this time, when I am finally able to write again — and when I am eager to do a lot of writing once more — I will be unable to pay the rent. After publishing a new essay several days ago, I put up a comparatively brief post offering a few observations about this and that, at the end of which I mentioned that I only have enough money to pay about half of this month’s rent. I have no money at all for anything else: internet service, a few other bills and, oh yes, non-essential items like food. I offer my sincere thanks to the seven people who responded. They made donations totaling $220. I still can’t pay the April rent.
If I’m still unable to pay the rent by the end of tomorrow, my rent will officially be late. (It’s not considered late until after the fifth, but if I don’t have the rent payment by the end of tomorrow, the landlord won’t get it until the sixth or later.) The new owners may well decide to begin the eviction process as soon as I’m late. They are definitely planning to demolish this building and the one next to it and then to construct one big new apartment building, with many more units than the two small buildings now contain. That’s the business they’re in; we know these buildings are on their list of projects, but we don’t know exactly when they will get around to them. It appears most likely that it will be sometime in the next year. A local ordinance mandates that owners must pay tenants certain amounts as relocation expenses when they tell the tenants they must move so that the building they live in can be torn down. Given my age and the length of time I’ve lived here, they will have to pay me about $20,000. I’m one of only three or four tenants due to receive that much. I think we can assume that the owners might well be delighted to avoid that payment in my case. If I hand them an easy excuse to get rid of me, they might pounce on it eagerly.
I’ll also be unable to pay the internet bill. So in a couple of weeks, that will be gone. I have four or five days’ worth of food. After that, nothing. A couple of weeks from now, I’ll be in very bad shape. I can’t buy other items, either — like toilet paper. Almost out of it. Well, I have some notebooks where I sometimes write down ideas or issues I’m thinking about (I make lots of notes on the computer, but yes, I occasionally still make notes with an actual pen on actual paper). I can tear some pages out of those notebooks, and use that paper to wipe my ass. I won’t be able to flush it down the toilet, so I guess I’ll collect it in a bag and throw it out with the garbage.
Donations to the blog are my only source of income. If I’m unable to gather sufficient funds to pay these basic expenses, this is over. I obviously won’t have money to move anywhere else, so … Well, I’ve known for quite a while that this day might come, if I lived long enough. Frankly, I expected to be dead by now, given the number of physical ailments I contend with, starting, but hardly ending, with a steadily weakening heart. But I am unaccountably still here. And after a long absence, I’m ready to do some writing.
I suppose I could point to some of my articles to try to convince people to make donations. The posts listed under “Major Essays” in the right-hand column should take care of that. And all of those articles contain many links taking you to still more essays. That’s what I have to offer. I’d like to offer more along those lines.
Hey, God! Here’s an idea: go damn Yourself, you sickening bastard. Now, now, don’t worry. I was going to Hell anyway.