CDC

I just spent 10 days away from the cooperative, visiting the boyfriends, rehearsing, and playing 2 concerts. I also attended the Tedeschi-Trucks Band concert with G, and visited El Malpais, the VLA, Pie Town, the Museum of Nuclear History, and the Rattlesnake Museum in ABQ Old Town with M and S. I hiked the Sandia Crest twice. I had a fabulous time.

I can't say the same for the folks at the cooperative. While I was gone, E's caregiver/niece discovered a big mouse infestation. In my defense, I think the signs became obvious right before I left: I told her I'd heard mice and explained our trap system (a jug of water, desert mice are drawn to dive in and drown). I had heard the mice, but not seen them or their leavings, so I had not done anything else about them.

Anyway, she went into huge overdrive: there was apparently a nest of newborns, and there were holes in the roof and, and, and... She used to be involved in infectious disease stuff (had a PhD and worked in a lab), so she has been following an extremely careful CDC protocol and cleaning every day. EVERYTHING has been moved and disinfected, except for a pile of brooms and containers in the bathroom, and the things under furniture in my room. Those, and the myriad numbers of books will wait until the last mouse sign is gone. C arranged for foam blocks in the Epod and the Casita (which also has a mouse problem.)

I was sick all last week with nausea, fatigue, and aches, and I missed E's 99th birthday party. I was advised that those are symptoms of hantavirus, which has a 38% of being fatal. Never mind that the mice for hantavirus are deer mice, not field mice, and that you need to have contact with fresh feces, and E was not showing any symptoms. I bowed to the panic and went to the doctor on the Monday I returned: No, I do not have the hantavirus. My symptoms are probably due to stomach flu and reaction to the bodywork I'm having done for last month's whiplash..

After I went to the doctor, I gave J a break and spent the afternoon with a tub of diluted 1:10 Clorox, doing battle with mouse turds. Most uninspiring. Then, I sent a message to my boss, regarding schedules and the possibility of getting a piano for Esther.

She wrote back that we need to connect on her next visit and clarify things, and she is not happy with the idea of having a piano in her house: no room, and E wouldn't use it anyway.

So now I am going into paranoia mode. I think she is thinking that I am getting paid too much for my work, since I'm gone for a week every month, and have subs for two overnights and one afternoon a week.  Of course, we had agreed to that back in January, so....is she perhaps wanting to change the terms of our agreement?  Or perhaps she is reacting to the hysteria regarding the mice? Whichever, it is not an acceptable attitude. I am a live-in caregiver, and I am here 24/7. My current rate of pay is barely $100/day. July was an anomaly: I had 17 days off (only two of which were covered by paid backup) and two 5-hour afternoons. That means, in July I worked 393 hours. At the going rate of $18/hr, that would be $7074. I'm getting $2100 a month, which translates into $5.35/hr last month, plus room and board.

Whatever, I'm cheap. And I am good at it. E and I love each other, and I do my best to shoulder my share of the co-op work, even though I'm not a member.

Probably this defense is not necessary. My boss is probably wanting to get another sub and hammer out the time off so she can budget for it. The real issue, of course, is that I'm thinking of the future. E just turned 99, and she is not happy here, and her memory and health will probably deteriorate. I'm only 55: What do I want to do for the next ten years before I retire? I actually spent the last few days of my recent vacation thinking about this. The mouse hysteria and my boss's message were just the tipping point.

I guess I feel like I'm ready to go back into the real world. I've been doing this since mid-September, so I'm close to the one year mark. I think that I could actually do this for a living, but then again, I can't expect to find other clients as wonderful as E. However, if I did this more formally, I would have much more freedom. Here, I'm responsible for scheduling my backup, and I don't have a real weekend: my weekends are 48 hours, not two days with the night before and the morning after, like most weekends. If I were working for an agency, like my friend C's, I would be making $15-20/hr, and if I were working a 24/hour shift, I'd be working a 3 day work week.

I'd need to get some EMT training, though. E is easy: she has short term memory loss, some hearing issues, and some physical frailty, but I don't need to administer meds or take her to the toilet or give her baths or any of that sort of thing. I'm just here, keeping her company and picking her up if she falls, making meals, and monitoring things.

I'm thinking out loud here...do I want to do this much longer? Do I want to go back to library work? Do I want to stay in New Mexico? The last few days have proven to me that I still don't handle criticism well, so it's tough to figure out a job and a living situation that will suit my perfectionist, flawed, thin-skinned style.

I'm irritated
By implied criticism.
I don't have to be.

The etymology of feelings

Last week was my last session with Mollie. She is quitting her job of 10 years and going to take care of her aging mother. Her family is overloaded by the issues there, and she wants to regroup personally.

I feel so responsible.
(late 16th century (in the sense ‘answering to, corresponding’): from obsolete French, from Latin respons- ‘answered, offered in return,’ from the verb respondere )

Seriously, I'm not sure who influenced whom in these similar trajectories. My guess is that we are mirroring, not each other, but the changes in our society. My friend B wrote a long comment to a previous blog, the gist being that as a culture we are moving from independence into cooperatives, which, in our current isolated and virtual lifestyles, might be a good thing. While this move is being prompted by financial woes, it's totally probable that those woes are a symptom of the basic sickness of our version of capitalism.

However, both Mollie and I are not so interested in the financial aspect of our choices. We are pondering our live's meanings, goals, and futures, in a spiritual sense. We have both been feeling stagnant, staid, static.

• mid 17th century: from Latin stagnant- ‘forming a pool of standing water,’ from the verb stagnare, from stagnum ‘pool.’
• late Middle English (as a verb): from Anglo-Norman French estai-, stem of Old Frenchester, from Latin stare ‘to stand’; in the sense ‘support’ (sense 5 of the verb andsense 3 of the noun), partly from Old French estaye (noun), estayer (verb), of Germanic origin.
• late 16th century (denoting the science of weight and its effects): via modern Latin from Greek statikē (tekhnē ) ‘science of weighing’; the adjective from modern Latinstaticus, from Greek statikos ‘causing to stand,’ from the verb histanai . Sense 1 of the adjective dates from the mid 19th cent

We both have spent 10 years on a path that is mostly about serving others and staying put. We miss our adventurous selves, the people who traveled and explored. She has, I think, been more adventurous than I. After all, I stayed in one place and profession for close to thirty years. She moved around a lot in her earlier life, and that is much more typical. How many mid-lifers actually want to be nomads, really?

Still, she has been questioning her choices, and I think it was her inner searching which informed the discussions which opened me to possibilities. Instead of feeling trapped....
("contrivance for catching unawares," late Old English træppe, treppe "snare, trap," from Proto-Germanic *trep- (cognates: Middle Dutch trappe "trap, snare"), related to Germanic words for "stair, step, tread" (Middle Dutch, Middle Low German trappe, treppe, German Treppe "step, stair," English tread (v.)), and probably literally "that on or into which one steps," from PIE *dreb-, extended form of root *der- (1), an assumed base of words meaning "to run, walk, step." Probably akin to Old French trape, Spanish trampa "trap, pit, snare," but the exact relationship is uncertain). ......I now feel haphazard,
(1570s, from hap "chance, luck" (see hap) + hazard "risk, danger, peril.")

The difference is nominal, really, but important. Snares are dangerous: one walks, runs, steps, MOVES into them. By chance, one moves into peril. So, will this haphazard movement of mine lead to another entrapment? Is that what life is, movement from one danger to the next? Is all change haphazard? Perhaps. Or perhaps that's the final fear that needs to be answered before I can move on, before I can fully feel adventurous.
(Middle English: from Old French aventure (noun), aventurer (verb), based on Latinadventurus ‘about to happen,’ from advenire ‘arrive.’)

Am I about to arrive? I hope so. Meanwhile, I feel so grateful
(mid 16th century: from obsolete grate ‘pleasing, agreeable, thankful’ (from Latingratus ) + -ful.)
to Mollie for being there during the past 20 months (has it really been that long?). She has been a sounding board. She has not let me flail in negative self-talk, but has asked the questions that needed to be answered. If I can say that I have arrived at a place where I am no longer PTSD, it is largely due to our work together.

It's probably time for me to to do that work on my own, or with other people, but I will miss her. I hope her trajectory is a joyous one, or that the painful moments are few. I have every expectation that her next steps will be good for her and those she loves. And I trust that I will follow a similar trajectory.

I feel hopeful.

(Old English hopian "wish, expect, look forward (to something)," of unknown origin, a general North Sea Germanic word (cognates: Old Frisian hopia, Middle Low German, Middle Dutch, Dutch hopen; Middle High German hoffen "to hope," borrowed from Low German). Some suggest a connection with hop (v.) on the notion of "leaping in expectation")

Bored angels again (or, will she never learn?)

In mid-May, I took my Honda in for a checkup. $900 later, I was set with new tires, clean spark plugs, and a schedule for maintenance clearly in place. I was feeling smug, happy: my car was good to go for some time to come, and I was starting to save money (as evidenced by my ability to buy new tires.)

Like a fool, I voiced my satisfaction with my lot, and those goddamned Bored Angels heard me. About 3 weeks ago, I was driving in Albuquerque, en route to a therapy session followed by a nice lunch with a newish friend. I pulled off the highway to stop by UNM and return M's book for her. As I sat, second in line at the stoplight (Candelaria and the frontage road), I heard a loud bang, felt a sharp impact that moved me forward into the car ahead, into the intersection. I braked, panicking as I picked up speed and pushed the other car, realizing in a second that I actually had my foot on the gas. I stopped, looked behind, looked ahead, and continued on through the intersection. Pulling over, I sat, stunned, with the contents of my purse and the car's cubby and the passenger seat scattered along the floor boards.

Long story short, my car was totaled.

I learned the following things:

1. I hate insurance adjusters.
2. I really hate car salesmen.
3. I really really hate our credit system

The insurance adjusters offered me $8400 for my nice little Honda with the leather seats and moon roof and gutsy engine and good mileage and brand new tires.  (My research tells me I cannot find a replacement for less than $9000, realistically it's worth about $9700.)  They told me I could have my rental for 7 more days, but I wouldn't get my money for 6 more days. So, I could shop all I wanted but I couldn't actually buy anything before my rental was gone.

I fight with State Farm.
The final call ends thusly:
"You guys are assholes!"

Another mind-boggling fact:  insurance checks are considered high risk. I have to wait 7 business days before I can actually access the money. So, they don't send the check for 7 days after they offer a settlement, and then I have to wait another 7 days before I can use it, but they don't give me a rental for that length of time.  How am I supposed to find a car if I don't have a car?  How can I buy a car with no money for a down payment?

Somehow I am missing something: it doesn't make sense to me. Why would they write a policy like that?

Car salesmen....well you know. It's a game, and I don't play it well. I did my research, test drove a lot of cars, negotiated, asked the opinions of friends and family, looked some more. I started with the idea of making lemonade of the situation: I need AWD for the mountains, and this was the chance to get it. But, with AWD you give up fuel economy and pickup. And, with used cars, you have to look at so many things to offset the lack of warranty. And you never find the price or the model that you researched at home. I tried used car lots in Santa Fe, Albuquerque, and Denver.

5 hours with salesmen.....
Typical used car salesmen.
I have bought nothing.

I hate dickering,
So I don't. Instead I have
Cinnamon French toast.

Nowhere could I negotiate the dealers down to true market value. Craigslist specialized in personal used cars with over 150K miles on them, or dealer come-ons.  So, I started looking at new cars, and hit the problem of finding what I wanted at the price that I wanted. Things look great, doable, reasonable online.  On the street is another matter.  My auto body guy told me that the problem was New Mexico's small population, so I tried Autotrader, with an expanded geographical search. They had no cars, new or used, for under $16K.  I was seriously considering buying a junker and running it into the ground, but I live in the mountains:  if my car dies, I can't just take public transportation until it's fixed.  In the end, I was weighing the pros and cons of buying an older used car with the money I had, versus buying a new car and repairing my credit.  

This is where I ran afoul of the credit system. Did you know that banks and car dealers figure your credit differently? I was given 3 different numbers: 640, 612, 603. None of them good, of course. Then, there are the loan applications, which want you to have a stable income and residence.  10 months is not stable.  In the last three years I have had 5 addresses, 2 ft jobs, unemployment, and 4 pt jobs.  My current job has no pay stubs to speak of, and no tax information (I filed it as hobby income last year.) Finally, there is the house in Portland. As far as the banks are concerned, it's a debt, and they don't recognize the rental income. So, I look like a total financial flake to them. Never mind the 20+ years living in one place, working at one place, and paying my bills. 

The process of determining all this goes something like this:  We can offer 0% interest for the life of the loan....FOR QUALIFIED BUYERS.  Okay, you're not qualified for that, but let's look at the .09% offer for a 3-year loan.  Okay, let's add a co-signer at 5%.   That's not going to work, but we can probably get you, 9.9% with no co-signer and you can refinance with your credit union. Oh, we can't do anything without a check in hand.  (As you recall, I had no check from State Farm.  Still don't for that matter, until 7/19.)  At this point my head explodes and I go home for a stiff drink, leaving the car which I have negotiated down to a reasonable price still sitting in the lot.

It's humiliating, being treated like pond scum by the system. Even though I've made some poor financial choices in the last few years, I have also basically taken care of business. But, because I don't currently fit the system's mold, that past is wiped out. I resent the fact that people who need assistance can't get it.  If you need money, it follows you can't afford a high interest rate, right? I mean, I do get that these people are in business, but it's an inherently unfair system. Those with money get the deals, those without don't.  And, I discovered a new quirk: a co-signer needs to live at your address. Or maybe it was the fact that my potential co-signer lives in Colorado while I live in New Mexico. Whatever, I was unable to get a loan at a reasonable rate.

For 3 weeks I fought the good fight, tried to navigate the system, and hoped to not be forced into a bad decision.  And yesterday I threw in the towel.  My co-op mates were loaning me cars, but wanted me to be done with the process.  Next week I have rehearsals and other plans that necessitate having my own wheels. Everyone is weary of the process, no one more than me.  So I made what seems in retrospect a strange and hasty decision.  In the end, I gave up all my original financial specs, but kept the criteria regarding the car. I may change insurance agencies in the future, I have an appointment to check for whiplash, and I may need to get a warranty for the new/old car, but I am DONE with car shopping!

Yesterday went something like this....

I watch the sun rise,
Spend the whole day with car guys,
And watch the moon rise.

We're picking car-beds
Since it seems we're sleeping here
At the dealership.

It's been a long time
But I'm still good at hangman
And she is, also.

Just two hours later,
A nice sunset and moonrise,
Seen from my new car!

I'm tired and driving.
She takes pix through the window
And I edit them.

Here is my last word on the subject, sent to all the people who gave me advice and watched me flail:

To my patient friends who saw me through the last 2.5 weeks...I'll spare you the saga, which most of you followed patiently, but, suffice it to say, everything took too long, there was a bait and switch at the end, and I said, "just take me home." But then things smoothed out.

Esther was a trouper throughout the whole ordeal: accompanied me to all the Santa Fe dealerships and told me I was great. 

She is so patient.
We stop for some gelato,
Then look for more cars.

And tonight, as the hours (yes, HOURS) dragged on, we played hangman.

Oh, you want to know about the car?

2013 Impreza AWD hatchback. Black inside and out. 61K miles. $19225. 2.99% over 76 mo, $178 monthly payments. 60-day/2000 mi warranty. I may need to buy more coverage, but balked at their price tag for it.

Has paddles that let me shift gears...still figuring that out.

It's exactly what I wanted, actually. So, all in all, I'm happy. The drive home was lovely: on my right, purple/orange/pink/golden/red sunset, with streaks of vertical lightning. On my left, an apricot moon rising. Almost worth the time it took to get signed. Almost.

Anyway, thanks for all your support, and please don't tell me I made a bad choice. I like my new car. :)
I'm hoping the Bored Angels don't notice that last line.