At the counter of the far north Starbucks, the patron, or is it guest?, ahead of me insisted on paying in pennies, or was it mills? In any case there might have been five people in front of me vs. the one for the time it took. And then once I got my mug filled with magma hot Sumatra crud, my first daring sip reminded me of a hash pipe that badly needed cleaning.

Divorced for over four years and still having a hard time of it. That’s not right, if ‘right’ even enters into it. My head, my brain has accepted it, almost immediately accepted it. It’s simply my heart.

I’m at the eco-friendly store of the world and I half expected the employee to empty the garbage by grabbing it with her bare hands and pitching it into an ancient rusting wheel barrel hammered out of recycled aluminum cans held together with silver solder. But no, they use planet-killing plastic trash bags just like the rest of us non-Gai worshippers.

The last couple of days I’ve been sad. Not depressed, but simply sad, which I suppose is an improvement. My sadness flows from two fonts 1) the financial-I’ll-never-get-out-of-this-hole-I’ve-dug and 2) I’m still divorced and starting, once again, to get quite lonely. “Boo hoo”, I know.

At Mainio’s apartment this afternoon with Aili and her infant, Kimmo, when she revealed Hanna-Marie was coming to town next week. And I was once again reminded that, with her December 7th, 2003 divorce decree in hand, we are two separated adult people who, any longer, only have our three children in common. It still feels almost rude that she not tell me–even though we e-mail frequently-that she is coming to town. But I’m sure, as the only person who really knows me, she keeps her comings and goings secret to not hurt me even more.

I am so fortunate that her vindictiveness only struck out a few times or I could be in dire emotional straits.

On the financial front I’ve finally dug such a deep hole–although I continue to have many thousands of dollars available credit-wise–that indebtedness would require monthly minimum, MINIMUM payments I could not afford. Which exposes the fact that the ‘credit grantors’ still have no idea, or don’t care, that their customers cannot pay their credit card bills.

I’m to the point where the despised and evil “B” word has raised it’s yellow and college-ruled blue lined head. Yes, it’s time to write out a budget.