Deep into no-money land.

I am not a very lucky person. My luck repellance tends to function in two modes: mode one, which just sort of keeps good luck away, and mode two, in which I actively attract unlucky and ridiculous occurances.

Here's the pertinent example:
For the last five-plus months, I've been sleeping on an air mattress because I wasn't really sure how I would pay for a real mattress. My mother offered to pay for me to get a real mattress as a housewarming gift when I first moved into my new cabin, but I didn't take her up on it right away and as time passed I became increasingly less sure she'd still be willing to hand over the money for a real bed. So, time went on, and my sleep cycle got pretty weird, but I still had a place to sleep and things were, in general, okay. This is a pretty good example of my life in mode one -- nothing really *bad* is happening, but somehow I am existing somewhat under the level of happiness and comfort a normal person should experience.

Last Sunday, however, my air mattress died, leaving me bereft of a sleeping place. This happened in my "Oh shit fuck fuck I have no money and I can't get a job what the fuck FUCK" quarter, unlike last quarter, when I could have afforded a new mattress. Then, of course, I told my mother about it, and asked if I could borrow the money from her, and she did not seem pleased in the least. Also ironically, the mattress was popped after three friends I was excited to have visit saw my apartment for the first time and all sat on my bed together. Thus, I learn again, fun has consequences. And I am left sleeping on someone else's air mattress, freaking out that they will need it back before I can procure myself something new to sleep on. This is mode two.

I owe a lot of money places. A lot. I am being tracked down by a collection agency for $50 for a Comcast bill I didn't pay before I moved away from home, I owe the ER by my house money from being hospitalized before winter break last quarter (another great example of mode two), I owe my best friend so much money it makes me feel sick to my stomach. I don't currently own a dresser, or a bed, and I wear the same pair of pants every day. This is a stupid, stupid life.

A friend here at camp offered to lend me some money, and I refused because I realized just how long it would be before I had anything close to enough money to pay another loan back. I am probably not going to be gainfully employed for anything but tiny stretches for the next seven years. That is so fucking scary-weird that it makes me want to give up this whole higher education nonsense immediately and run out to find a stable job shelving books or making coffee or anything else I'm marginally qualified for. Who needs health insurance anyway, eh?

Instead of fleeing, however, I am signing up for psych experiments the camp is running in order to begin paying off my extraordinary debts. So today, I spent an hour and a half inside an MRI machine. Ever done that? Guess what, it is terrible. The space is very small, very very small, and there is actually a strange plastic grate put over your head to hold it in place. On the grate above your eyes, there's a small mirror that lets you look into a computer screen somewhere behind your head. You're also wearing earplugs, and a headset, and your body is held in place by cushions. The entire experience felt like I was somehow taking part in an episode of the Outer Limits.

The whole experience played into all of my latent phobias (confined spaces, not being able to move my body, loud mechanical noises), but I somehow made it through it. And even though the money is decent, it is a sadly degrading experience. The people around me are getting normal and lucrative little jobs teaching or assisting professors, the kind of stuff you can put on a resume. I am putting myself into a big metal box and answering if the blinking lights seem to be moving right or left. Somehow I don't think my life is really working out right now.

One silver lining in all this though: No brain tumors! Thank you, science!