Madam L-- just stopped by for the rent. She actually got out of the car and we talked on the curb. I handed her the money and she just sort of looked at me. I was like, so...? And she told me, sort of continuing our conversation from the night before (she phoned last night to ask me what was going on), that the whole situation was ‘a bit confusing’ for her, since if I wanted to work and make money back in the States, why was I such a lazy git while I was here? I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m lying, or something. Like, maybe I got a better deal on a flat someplace else. I’m absolutely sure that’s it, in fact.

I told her the main thing was that I wanted to change vocations. She said, and you can’t do anything else here? I said, no, not really. I mean, I might be able to get work at some multinational, but probably they’d be more likely to hire me from the other end. I told her, really, what I felt I needed to do at this point was ‘change the whole scenario.’

We went through why it still didn’t make any sense a few more times—it was a little like the scene with the ticket inspectors. I mean, I guess the essence of it is, other people’s decisions don’t always make sense from where you’re standing, and if you’d like at least the small consolation of a reasonable reason, especially when their decisions mean you’ll be losing a considerable sum every month, it’s particularly vexing. I mean, there’s all sorts of other things, aside from having good reasons, that can motivate people to do what they decide to do in the end. It could be love or hate, just to name two great, unreasonable motivators. Desperation is also a good one. Should I stand there on the curb and tell her, ‘look, I’m an impotent little cunt whose only power is in negation’? or that ‘I feel most powerful when I am tearing things down. I get my greatest emotional satisfaction from undoing things’?

Anyway, she’s not so interested. She has too much pride to do more than question my motivations. She won’t beg me to stay. She won’t even admit it’s a financial blow to her. And that’s the main thing. That three hundred odd bucks a month that’s sending her kid to that chi-chi school. And at a time when she’s struggling herself, by all accounts. But while I sympathize with her, it’s still time to move the hell out and on with my life. This is exactly the right thing to do at this point in time, that much I know beyond a shadow of a doubt.


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