de profundis parisien.

by dorarandom

well. it turns out that my car is officially “lost.” lost? misplaced by the tow truck driver. which means “stolen.” by the tow truck driver? probably by an affiliate. to me this seems so ludicrous and also i’ve never heard of it happening to anyone else and i assume i must be to blame—though i’m not sure how. and, in fact, the insurance company doesn’t blame me at all, or find it surprising or ludicrous. they don’t think very highly of tow truck drivers. still, it’s a mystery to me. and i know it’s my fault that it happened, because it’s the kind of stupid complicated thing that happens to me. and i’m supposed to make a list of things that i had in my car, and then eventually i will be sent money with which to purchase a new old car. eventually.

i’m glad i took my masters degree out of the trunk. (i noticed it was in there a couple of weeks ago—i had wondered where i had put it!—and taken it into my house.) you probably can’t replace those.

you know i went out in the snow in the first place because i thought that i ought to start going to Adult Children of Alcoholics meetings? (and so i’d found one, and so i’d gone. i wasn’t going to go, but then i told myself that i was procrastinating, and went anyway.) (how was it? it was depressing. they always are. i went for a while a couple of years ago in chicago.) but. it’s a bleak, unglamorous, unhopeful, kind-of heathenish¬†loneliness that i’ve gotten mixed up with. i’ve gotten bleak and unhopeful and heathenish. and i worry that i might DEPRESS THE INTERNET if i go on about that. (….surely not possible?) i know i have to try to extricate myself—and at times i do try.

“heathenish”? well, that’s the word that occurred to me. i mean, you know, like caliban. also i haven’t been to church since i have been car-less—(and i am, as my grandfather says, a “church person.”) (he means it as kind of an insult. not an insult, exactly, but a term for a silly kind of person.) (my grandfather is not very nice.)