Endofmonth, as we say at work. All one word. Momentous time for the finance industry. Not as big as June 30, endoffinancialyear, but still big. Endoffirstquarter it is.
Payday in a few hours. S starts the push for funds. Dealing still, I am, years after putting down the scales.
"Give me a hundred", she says.
"I'll give you a hundred if we don't score", I say.
"Well, give us fifty and we score", she comes back.
"Well, give us forty and we score" she reduces it to ten minutes later.
What is going on? Unemployed, she got benefits two days ago. No rent to pay, no bills to pay, no groceries to buy. Money is needed for shoes. I know she is depressed and this bizarre interchange with me supports her feelings of worthlessness, but it's an expensive psychopathology for me. I know I am just as involved in the whole mindfuck as she is.
Tiring, it is. Saw doc tonight, $72 because I yapped and yapped. $45 if i just grab the metro script. I should have gotten some valium for $72.
"Sure we can't score and give me a hundred dollars" she just said. Ay karumba! Circles within circles..