En passant, I think I have finally figured out why I delayed for months in cashing in on my government check.

Early on I said it didn’t matter, because every month that went by meant having a slightly larger check in the end. So I waited, until things got uncomfortable.

Then I waited some more, and I told myself (and some of you) that maybe I had something I really wanted to learn about serious poverty, like I had experienced in my teens and early 20s.

It didn’t sound particularly convincing to my own ears even as I said it. Especially as my life went from just uncomfortable, to starting to come economically unglued.

But in a way … I think it was true. I just didn’t have a handle on what exactly it was I desperately hoping to learn.

I think I know now.

I think I was really deeply curious about who I could count on, when things were really bad–even who cared enough to listen to how bad they were getting.

Not that I ever asked for help. That would have invalidated the experiment.

I was curious about who listened well enough to hear me, and act unilaterally on a love for me, on … an honest impartial concern about how I was doing.

The results of the experiment were conclusive.

There are 3 people in this world who care about me to that unconditional extent.

I might extend that out as high as five people, if I was being magnanimous.

But three, really, and unreservedly.

I don’t think it’s coincidental that all three, or even five, are Patr(e)ons who are there for me every damn month. The amounts vary and are not important.

The consistency sure is though.

Life is damn good now and it’s going to get better.

The second monthly check arrived today ahead of schedule, and that money will cover June’s bills. On the same day, I paid off the very last bill of May, on the sixth of the month, without touching that fresh second check to do it. Without touching that May check, I bought green chili, and avocado, and I slapped forty bucks into my brand-new business checking account too, the first one I’ve ever had in my life.

I’m twenty-four days ahead of my bills, and this is the first time in five or six years that I can legitimately say that. (It was true for a while after I cashed in the pension too, but that was a specialized circumstance, not real life. This is real life. Except with no job necessary, and fuck yeah for that blessing, and amen.)

To the three of you …

Forgive me for any bullshit manipulation on my part.

I might at times have been guilty of that, though I can say with a clear conscience that I wasn’t doing it consciously.

More importantly, thank you for loving me, and for making me feel loved too.

That’s a gift that the Christ called a pearl of great price.

It can’t be bought, or paid for.

It is the currency of the true heart, and I am so very grateful to you for it.

As for the rest of the world, I’m grinning in their faces with my extremely modest pile of fuck-you money and my equally modest, almost monastic life.

You don’t get the saucy grin, though, oh no.

You get the authentic gap-toothed crooked smile.