Chương 1064: Day One Thousand And Sixty-Two

Dear Diary, It's so weird, realizing things, then realizing that what I've just discovered is in fact some kind of universal thing that adults all know. Which is kind of weird, because some of the things I'm discovering aren't really things everybody who claims the Title Adult seems to get here and now. Shit, most of the ills of my old world could be laid at the feet of folks who claimed the rights and privileges of adulthood without ever taking on the responsibilities and duties.

In this case, what I'm talking about is two interwoven things. The first one would be realizing that when I fuck up, I feel some kind of way about it. My temper gets shorter. I stomp around almost looking for something to pop off on, and generally not in the happy ending sense. On the one hand, that doesn't make any kind of rational sense. I'm the one who fucked up, so I should be looking to make that shit up to people, not looking to make it worse. On the other hand, it's a deeply human reaction.

I saw it damn near every day of my life back in the day, because poverty leaves people with shitty decisions on the daily. Not 'an inability to make good decisions', mind you. Although... No, really, the folks who don't deal with food, shelter, and medical insecurity on the daily, or at least those who never have had to do so for an extended period of time, one where there was no 'we just need to get to the next paycheck' to fix things, can shut the fuck up.

People at that end of the economic spectrum, the ones a single bad day from homelessness, or even some of the ones who are unhoused, can stretch dollars far further than wealthy people could imagine. They are intimately aware of every possible way to find things cheap, reuse them, or do without.

Seriously, every one of those lists I've seen where people talk about 'if you are short on cash, you should try these saving tips' is half shit that poor folks have been doing on the daily forever, and half shit that does not apply if you're poor. Occasionally there's something on there that just does not fuckin' matter, or doesn't apply at all. Like, the first category would be things like 'food banks' or 'buying generic'.

Yeah, the only time a poor person is gonna buy brand name is when the generic is more expensive, or when the generic is so god awful its better to have an empty cupboard. I remember mom buying some generic American singles once, and when we put them on stuff and heated it, they straight up disappeared. The shit was nothing but oil, and it melted. I mean, she used the rest of that shit to fry some stuff up, because another thing about being poor is you don't waste anything if you can use it.

The second category is things like 'stop buying ten dollar coffees'. Bitch, if I had ten dollars to buy coffee, I could buy myself lunch for a whole fuckin' week. Fuck, if I went nothing but ramen, and there were weeks when I did that, I could buy lunch and dinner for a whole assed week. Don't get me wrong, I don't begrudge people their little luxuries, but the idea that poor people indulge in those is just, I dunno, some serious entitled privileged bullshit.

Now, I'll point out that once in a while you'll see somebody who looks poor with a fancy latte. Maybe they're not poor and they're just slumming. Maybe it's their birthday and they wanted a special treat. Maybe they had to go to their third shift that day and the asshole neighbor was playing despacito while they tried to sleep, and the only place to acquire caffeine and sugar between the two law offices they're cleaning nightly was the stupid yuppie coffee shop in the lobby.

I'm just sayin', when my mom came home with a Starbucks cup, I had no right being such a little bitch about it. As for the 'does not apply at all', I'm thinking those jackasses who talk about the infrastructure of modern life back in the day being 'luxuries'. Meanwhile if you can't email somebody a resume, the only jobs you can apply for are those that require you to fill out an online form.

So when some jackass talks about 'homeless people with cell phones', remember that if you want them to get a job, the absolute cheapest way for them to access the computer they need is one of those 'Obamaphones' that Curious George started handing out when he was in office. Yeah, that kind of shit pisses me off to no end, as you might imagine. I grew up inundated with all that shit, and the only reason I could sit back and observe it was my mom working herself to death to give me that chance.

Which I didn't understand then, but I sure as shit do now. I guess that's another notch on the 'growing up' tally stick. I'm now seeing all kinds of ways my mom was right about shit that I got pissed at her for when I was a kid. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. But yeah, poverty sticks people with shit choices. Like, 'do I buy groceries or do I get the car fixed'.

You buy groceries, because you can always walk to work, even if it's an hour and a half each way, and then it rains, and you wind up sick because you spent three hours in the rain, most of it exhausted. Or you get the car fixed, and the stuff you had at home finally goes bad, but you have to eat it anyway, and you get sick from food poisoning. Shit. Choices. Not shit choosers.

Point, though, is that when I realize I've fucked up, it makes me mad at me, but it's not easy to admit that or take it out on me, so I go around with a head of steam. So mark number one is realizing that my mom wasn't always wrong. Mark number two is realizing that when I fuck up, I have a tendency to get really pissy.

Mark three is taking control of that and saying, 'no, I'm not going to be a bitch of any kind, instead I am going to do what I can to make things better, while studiously avoiding making them worse'. In this case, I spent a good chunk of yesterday afternoon fixing all of Ria's favorites. Eggy grilled cheese, some sushi, which my knife skills are barely good enough for, but my knife stills are barely good enough for, which surprised the fuck out of me when I maybe decided to make it despite not thinking I'd succeed.

Salads, fish, grilled and fried veggies. Anything and everything that my little Sidhe girl had shown some liking for. When I handed her her eggy grilled cheese at dinner, she head tilted and smiled.

"Thank you, Mama!" As she took in the spread alongside that grilled cheese, she got a little bit of a confused look, so I explained as best as I could without making it worse.

"I felt kinda bad about being distracted on your birthday, so..." She jumped up and gave me a hug.

"That's okay, Mama. You wouldn't miss it unless it was important." I hugged her back, and maybe cried a little.

"Thanks, kiddo. You want I should stay home tonight?" She shook her head.

"No, Mama. That would be greedy. But..."

"Yeah?"

"Could you make me another tomorrow night?"

"Sure, kiddo." After that and a round of hugs and kisses for the fam I hopped over to the Revel. Where I found Alexandra sitting on my Altar. To be fair, she was more 'slumped on the very edge of the seat' than 'lounging there looking decadent'. She also tried to push herself to her feet when I arrived.

"Forgive me, Lady Tabitha Diaz. I cannot stand long." I swept her up, albeit very carefully, because she still had less weight on her than Siobhan had back when she was starving herself, and settled her down onto my lap.

"Hey, Alexandra. I'm not..." I almost said, 'Aphrodite', then 'your old boss', but I settled on, "mad about it. Sometimes you've gone as far as you can and you just need to sit." As she went still and leaned against me, I turned to Karen, who stood to one side of my Altar. After taking a moment which I desperately hoped she took to be me admiring her in her Holy Garb, but was actually me trying not to chuckle at the juxtaposition of her standing at Parade Rest while wearing the Yandere Shobitch Wedding Gown.

At my side nod to Aphrodite's High Priest in my lap, she quietly said, "Aphrodite sent her with a message to the Temple." I looked down at Alexandra.

"You feeling up to it?" She nodded, but said, "whether I am or not, this is my duty, Goddess." I surreptitiously poured a little Mana into her as I lifted her to her feet. I remained sitting mostly because I didn't want to loom behind her, but I kept my tentacles bracing her shoulders, her hips.

"Whenever you're ready." She nodded, took a breath, and started.

"People of Phileo. Worshippers at the Temple of Love. My Lady, the Goddess Aphrodite, wishes me to convey her sincere apologies. She apologizes for failing you, for abusing your trust, for failing to be the Goddess this City required. She hereby exhorts all her Worshippers to lend their support, their Worship, to Tabitha Diaz, who has restored this Temple to its former Glory... No, she has done more than that, she has recreated it as it should have been, rather than as it was."

The Temple had gone silent from the moment she said 'apologies'. You could have heard the proverbial pin drop when she told Aphrodite's Worshippers to Deny her and switch to me. Then she turned to face me.

"Thank you, Goddess, for all you have done for my Lady. My own apology would be anticlimactic after hers, so although I regret my actions and would make amends, I have no power to do so. And so..." She stepped away from my tentacles, falling backward over the edge of the plinth. Okay, I'm sure she intended to fall over the edge of the plinth. I wasn't gonna let somebody off themselves at the start of one of my Revels.

Okay, maybe a Maenad on a very special occasion or some shit, but I'd have to be bribed into that kind of fuckery. I gently pulled her to lay in my lap, then scooped her into my arms to hold her against me.

"If there is no Hope, if only pain remains, I will carry you to the other side myself, but... Not for that. Not for guilt, for shame, for not knowing how to fix things you weren't properly responsible for anyhow." Yeah, I held her there for a while as she wept. Out in the congregation, I saw little knots of people talking, and it took me a while to realize my Worshippers were speaking with the members of the congregation who'd been Worshipping Aphrodite this whole time.

By the time I realized that, I realized something else. They weren't talking to them like conquests, or like refugees. They were greeting them like new family. I really wish I could do something for Aphrodite, something that would show her how much I appreciated her apologizing, releasing the folks who'd been pining after her for going on two years now. But the only thing the bitch in question had asked me for was her own death.