I need a ghost writer

When I'm a little down, tired, overwhelmed, confused, melancholy and pissie (that's slightly angry but more on the bitchy end), I always wish I could write it up prosaically and even poetically like Elizabeth.  Her writing makes me swoon and it would you too if you read her. 
I've thought of calling her, telling her how I feel and having her write it up for me. She would make it so much shorter and prettier.
Oh,  I left out crying,  it's an important feature, there has been a significant amount of that.

So, in lieu of a skilled ghost writer.....
I've been doing pretty well lately. Keeping it all "together". Except for clothes shopping which is so fucked.  I don't have a lot of cashola so I always think - I can find something really cool looking (because I'm a cool person...) on the sales rack at Macy's or at Ross or Old Navy (no one should shop there, they use slave labor) and mind you, that would be the Old Navy sales rack too, geez. But I always wind up getting home and going - god! this is a piece of shit! I wear it until it is either so shrunken or stretched that I have to start the whole process over.  I call this economizing.

I made a friend, I made a friend, I made a friend!  Why do we say made?  She is so much fun. And we get each other. That is a rare thing to find, at least for me - maybe for her too. (and you too?)  So that is a very good thing. Not that you, my virtual friends are not friends, but you're not going to call me. Nor I you. And actually she is a fellow blogger - so I am completely  wrong about the calling thing.

A very sad and truly shitty thing happened too.  Someone who I should be able to trust, wrote me an email to say that he/she would no longer be going to bestow upon me an amount of $ that would significantly improve my life.  He/she (I don't want to be too obvious here) had been, without giving me a heads up,         (because I have been sitting here alone with no word from any living soul that I should be able to trust for over a year)
stashing a little bit to help me out of the fucked situation that I have wound up in because of the difficulty of trusting the people that I should have been able to trust...... because - I said "go f*~k yourselves" in one of my blog posts in reference to a situation that was ripping the skin off my brain.  One never knows who is reading, but like all who blog know, essentially you write for yourself - caution often thrown to the winds and really that's the best way to write.  He/she is only misguided, suffering too, and who wants to be told to go f*~k yourself.  But, come on, is that really worth a smack to the side of the head?

 So be it. Life is full of surprises.  One of those surprises might just be the way you handle one of those surprises. I'm surprised at myself.

(I have no idea why I am doing that little funny thing instead of just saying fuck.  It's the first time I ever did that and I'm not sure if there is a formula for the little things.)

And, on the flip side of that, another one of those people that I should be able to trust actually did a very nice thing for me, unexpected and sweet. So trust gets renewed a bit - it's a process.

And last, but definitely! not least, I downloaded the forms to file to legally change my name!  Yes! It is exciting and scary. And it makes my heart feel like it is inching it's way up into my throat and I swear to god, I am not going to lay them on the desk and let them get buried under a bunch of other papers.  I'm keeping them right on top of the printer, right next to my shoulder here.  And I am going to look at them until I can pick up the pen and fill them out.  I'm giving myself two weeks at the outside. It's time.

Well, a little not so bad, mixed in with a little good and I'm good to go.
Next, if nothing big gets in the way, I will be writing the story of how I got to India, it is fascinating!  (because I'm kinda, sorta thinking of going back - the result of too much time to think and a lack of a good plan)

I still wish I could have put a poem in.