Regrets Only

At the end of each of my classes, i say, "And in gratitude to everything and everyone that have led us to this perfect moment, we bow." I've been feeling like that hasn't rung true for me lately. The words come out, but i wonder if my students can hear the doubt in my voice.

I feel more regret about The Ex than i ever thought i would. Until the whole babymamadrama went down, i was certain that the lessons that i learned from being with The Ex would sustain me for at least this lifetime. I thought that being with him was a way for me to learn that somebody was capable of loving me (a revelation, i assure you!) and to learn that love doesn't mean emotional strangulation. But i look back on our time together and i see where i am now and i see how many of the choices i made when i was with The Ex (and i don't mean because of The Ex) have led me to be living a life that i don't think i feel very proud of.

It was when The Ex and i started dating that i began to smoke on a daily basis. I'm not ashamed that i smoke pot, but i am ashamed of what i've done to get weed sometimes and of some of the things i've done while stoned. Or more truly, what i've not done: written the novel, learned to play guitar, run the marathon. I know that these are the kinds of things that everyone says they're gonna do, but never do, even if they're not a pothead. It's part of the human condition to have high hopes and lofty aspirations that get dashed by the daily grind of just trying to stay alive. And i know that there are plenty of potheads who have achieved massive amounts of success. But i'm talking about my personal experience and at the moment, my personal experience is that of me, broke with no weed, wishing that i'd never started. And at the same time, of course, wishing that somehow i had enough money to get some weed today. The sad part? I can't afford it and rent's due on the 20th and i'll probably find a way to talk myself into thinking it's ok to buy it and then spend next week avoiding my landlord, making excuses to my landlord, running around looking for extra work, lying to my mother about why i need an extra $100, giving my landlord a check that will probably bounce, checking my bank's website every half-hour to see if it did bounce. I'll probably do all this without breathing. Right now, i'm about to add up my paychecks to see if there's any conceivable way i could make it work to get my stone on.

Well, i can afford it, but barely. I just called The Man. He'll be here around 6pm. And the cycle begins again. I'm a fucking idiot. I regret calling. Yesterday's StonedGrrrl told Today's StonedGrrrl not to do this, but Last Night's StonedGrrrl didn't get to sleep till 5:30am and Right Now's StonedGrrrl knows that Tonight's StonedGrrrl will go batshit if she doesn't sleep better tonight.

Already, the fear is creeping in. It's ok so far because it's not the 20th quite yet, but in a matter of days, when i'm buried under my covers, not stoned, just numb, i will wonder why the fuck i thought making that phonecall was a good idea. I will wonder if i've made any good decisions in the last half-decade. Falling for The Ex? Depression. Confusion. Memories i try to forget. Leaving my secure day job in pursuit of higher seeking? Unpaid bills. Bad credit. Bounced checks. I will wonder if setting foot in this dirty city in the first place a good idea. Too many people. Lost friends. Dog shit.

In happier news, it's my dad's birthday. He's awesome.