Hola Darling Ones,

How are you? Is Spring springing where you are? It is here and I’m giving it 90% of the credit for why I keep passing the open windows. The other 10% goes to Valerie June’s “Owls, Omens, and Oracles” record mostly for the song “Joy, Joy!” and a little for that Oxford comma in the title.

It’s not been the best week here at Supergenius HQ. It started with a dental emergency and ended with doing my taxes.

Uffda!

I have a lot of shame about my Play-Doh-like teeth that have not gotten the best care throughout much of my life. While my oral hygiene is A+, my routine dental care by a professional is C- at best, more like D+. Childhood poverty, shame, lack of dental insurance are all reasons I can give for the shoddy state of my mouth. However, I know better and one of my goals for 2025 is to get my mouth in order.

Thanks to some wiggling by my back left molar that goal got started Wednesday. As I dramatically said to Mortimer while he was fucking with the Sadness Garden, “I just had a bone ripped from my face!”

A tall man (UGH, yes, I asked him how tall he was (6’6″) and hated myself for it) pulled the sucker because there was no saving it. I swear I have about six teeth left. I go back at the end of June to get those six teeth cleaned and keep working on my goal. Look at me, being all accountable to myself.

The whole thing was fine and only deemed an emergency by the dentist’s office for insurance purposes.

The tax situation is fine too, I guess? I mean, at least I can afford my tax bill without having to borrow money from my mom, so that’s nice. This year I owe about $650. So, a mortgage payment. What’s gutting is that my adjusted income was only $8,750. I think I made about $10K this year.

Seeing that number made me realize I am, in fact, poor poor. I knew the realization was coming. I’ve been cutting all frivolity from my budget — things like letting domain names expire, cancelling subscriptions, switching from my beloved Peace Coffee to whatever’s on sale, etc. These are not hardships. Domains for fictional characters I made up in my head are not a necessity.

Still. . . seeing that number – 8,750 – was a slap in the face. It makes my stomach hurt and my cheeks burn with shame. I feel like a loser, a slacker, a failure, and I hate that so much of my self-worth is tied to being a good capitalist cog.

Bleh.

I keep reminding myself that I’m ok. I’ll be ok. That I won’t be homeless 10 minutes from now. There’s still a chance I’ll get on the dole. It’ll all work out, right?

Keep passing the open windows,
Jodi