"And maybe tomorrow..."

Line from an old theater tune..."Who Can I Turn To" from either Stop The World, I Want To Get Off or The Roar Of The Greasepaint, The Smell Of The Crowd.  Probably the former.  "Feelin' Good" was the song the lounge lizards sang from Greasepaint, and that most assuredly isn't how I feel.

"And maybe tomorrow I'll find what I'm after./ I'll throw off my sorrow,/ Beg, steal or borrow/ My share of laughter."  But there's an end to tomorrows at some point.  One can think "rah rah" thoughts for only so long; I'm not sure how much longer I want to hang on to that.  What if you honestly look at the situation and conclude that there's really nothing more you can do?

I have failed yet again.  Not only did we run out of money before Social Security, not only can I not afford to buy us one of those under-the-bar refrigerators because the one we have has died, not only can I not seem to keep up with the phone or cable/internet bills, but I came home to find a notice from the electric folks that they're turning off the power in a couple of days unless I can find -- oh -- $2000 or so.  I'm kind of preparing myself for attitude from Jack, which he has justification for giving.  I'd probably get some from the cat, too, if she knew what was going on.

I've been the grasshopper rather than the ant.  Now I'm paying for it.  We've gone through the savings, what little there was.  The inheritance from my father was considerably less than what I'd been told it would be.  Of course, that was before we stopped talking, but the will was still pretty well divided.  We're supposed to get something when his widow dies, but she's pretty spiteful, so I'm not expecting her cooperation anytime soon.

I don't have the money to play the lottery.  I also don't have the money to pay the electric bill.  Not having money is wearing on me more than I can say.  Having to be the provider has taken a toll.  I'm not just tired out, I can't even see that anything's going to get better.  I'd love to believe that it will.  I was and remain squarely behind Dan Savage's "It Gets Better" crusade.  That's something different, however.  I'm approaching 67.  My shrink tried to make an appointment for me with Vocational Rehab yesterday and never got through, and I haven't heard anything today.  I need a job and won't do any lifting because I've already had three hernia operations, thank you, and don't care to have to go through that again.  I need a job and can't find one.  What I do to keep busy is a volunteer position.  I love it, but aside from the personal satisfaction, there is no gain from it.  Personal satisfaction don't count for squat with the electric company.

I'm running out of tomorrows.  Hell, I feel like I'm running out of today.  My failures are overwhelming.  "who can I turn to?"  And who the hell cares?