Done

It's done.

We met with our bankruptcy lawyer, signed the papers stating that we are retaining his services and gave him a thick stack of bills.

All for the low, introductory price of $1600. I won't bring up any of the obvious Catch-22's, contradictions or paradoxical conundrums that come to mind as we try to pull together that amount.

When I'm old and feeling the need to share the autobiography of my life (RMB14.95 at Barnes and Noble, due out in the Fall of 2033), I'll begin this chapter as such:

"On a cold and dismal January morning, a light dusting of snow flirting with the leafless trees, Tom and Annie turned into the bankruptcy lawyer's parking lot, the stillness disturbed only by the crunching sounds of their Plymouth Neon's recently Fix-a-Flat-inflated tires on the newly salted roads."

It's sure to be a runaway bestseller. To pay for an advance copy, just send your checks to me at...

Zero hour

The Office - Michael Scott "declares" bankruptcy.

Michael Scott: Yes. Money has been a little tight lately. But, at the end of my life, when I'm sitting on my yacht, am I gonna be thinking about how much money I have? No. I'm going to be thinking about how many friends I have, and my children, and my comedy albums. I mean, I have a yacht, so I obviously did pretty well money wise.
Oscar: Michael, are you having money problems?
Michael Scott: Monkey problem? No, I'm not having monkey problems. Why would I have monkey problems?
Oscar: You heard me correctly.
Michael Scott: I hate monkeys. But I don't have money problems, I don't. Alright, you know what? Watch this, if I had money problems, would I do this? [Michael takes out a dollar bill, crumples it up and puts it back in his pocket]
Stanley: You just put it back in your pocket.
Michael Scott: Yeah, but I destroyed it. It's not even useable anymore.

Later, in Michael's office...

Michael Scott: So bankruptcy is kind of like the witness protection program?
Oscar: Not at all. You have to declare bankruptcy.

[Michael walks out of his office and yells to the other workers]

Michael Scott: I... DECLARE... BANKRUPTCY!

Oscar: Michael, just because you say it out loud... it doesn't work that way.

Monday, monday

For all of you who a hanging on to the edge of your seats, waiting to hear the latest news on our bankruptcy, I've switched lawyers and we meet him on Monday. There were a few red flags with the previous lawyer that I won't get into here.

A few more days reprieve.

Why do today what you can do tomorrow?

Ah, yes, the meeting with the bankruptcy lawyer was supposed to be today. Postponed for another week.

Shopping spree? Kidding....

How Fix-a-Flat explains the world of depression

I had a flat tire this morning.

I mended it with a $5 can of Fix-a-Flat. That's one of the reasons why I am bankrupt.

And I blame my depression.

Before I go any further, I'd like to address a few common misconceptions. First, the "d" word - depression. Everyone gets down at some point, except maybe Robert Schuller and Charo. It's a word that's thrown around freely, like doctor's opinions about Ian's test results.

The word "depression" is like the word "love," oft-used and mis-used. I love foreign films differently than I love my wife differently than I love a bag of Bridge Mix differently than I love wandering down new city streets. Same word, different meanings. The same principles apply to the word "depression".

I've pretty much "felt like crying" every day since January 28th, 1985, the day when We Are the World was recorded, although I don't think it's related. Nothing shattering happened when I was seventeen-years-old, but it was then that I started to realize that my sadness didn't ease up like it did for most of my fellow classmates. It just hid out in the shadows, stalking me, always there. And, no, I'm not going to cry, mind you. (Unless you break out singing We Are the World.) It's just that what I experience on a day-to-day basis is similar to the feeling you get while crying. Pressure behind the eyes. Constant exhaustion. Muddled thinking.

I've got that I've Helped Pay for My Therapist's Lexus and Have Popped a Lot of Pills brand of depression going on.

Second, I want to define what I mean when I say "I blame my depression." I don't mean that I can't help myself. Everyone deals with something. My actions are not predetermined by my depression, but they are influenced by it. My depression explains, in part, why I am bankrupt.

What's all this got to do with a can of Fix-a-Flat?

I knew that I had a slow leak in that tire but have been so overwhelmed with Ian's medical issues, the darkness of winter, financial burdens, turning forty and my lingering depression that I kept putting air in the tire every few days instead of taking it in because that would mean having to arrange for a time to get the tire fixed and then I would have to interact with people and when I bought the car it came with these hubcaps that require a special key to get them off and I don't know where to buy the special key because the guy we bought the car from lost it and so I am unable to put the spare tire on the car because I can't get the flat tire off because of the aforementioned stupid hubcaps so I just went down and bought a cheap can of Fix-a-Flat for $5 knowing that the tire repair store will require me to buy a new tire for $80 instead of patching this tire for $20 because it is their policy not to work on tires that have been fixed with Fix-a-Flat for whatever reason, which I kind of knew but didn't really care about because it was easy and did I mention - I fight depression.

Twenty or so years of making decisions like this one and I think that my bankruptcy mystery is solved.

Meet your bankruptcy lawyer

Things you need to take to your first meeting with your bankruptcy lawyer:

• Your family budget. (I've heard of those. Always thought they were made up, like the Easter Bunny and Santa Clause.)
• Your last year's tax returns, including all W-2 forms.
  
• Paycheck stubs for the last two months.
• List of all your creditor's names, addresses, amounts, etc. (The lawyer is going to think I'm giving him a copy of War and Peace.)

Things you can leave at home:

• Self-respect
• Manhood
• Smile
• Checkbook (No one's going to want a check from me for a while.)
  

Fast forward button

Some days I wish I had a remote control that would allow me to fast-forward into the future so that I could skip certain events that are looming in the near future. But, just as the remote at home does not "Mute" me, no matter how hard Annie playfully pushes the button, I don't foresee such a remote making it to the electronic section of Target any day soon.

My readers are probably wishing they had such a remote about now as well. Maybe you could skip ahead and return around April when the snow melts, our bankruptcy is a little red mark on our credit report, and I have discovered a way to perfect myself.

I know that I have this knack for seeing the one crooked picture frame on a museum wall full of masterpieces; that's why I'm a decent video editor. It's all about fixing one video frame at a time. But it can be a bit exhausting hanging around me, especially if you're a "glass is half full, and it's bubbly champagne" type of person.

Anyway, all that to say that I'm struggling to see the sunny side of life these days. "No, not you, Tom!" Yes, I know, hard to believe. I'm starting to have a bit of insomnia again, like I did when I hit the floor in Seattle five years ago. Good thing we have a cap on our current credit cards, I suppose.

I'm writing a lot of this down just for me, so that one day I have a record of it. I wish I could be one of the happy bloggers, the ones that are just glad to have a child, Down syndrome and all, the ones who have "gifts" and "little angels" and where God always seems to be doing good things, like arranging for a parking space close to the grocery store entrance. Oops, that's the book The Secret. And I think Joel Osteen. Sorry. Don't mean to step on any one's toes. See what I mean? Come back in April; I'll upload lots of pictures of blooming flowers, I promise.

Back to this insomnia. It's hit three times in the last two weeks, including last night. Waking up around 2am, watching the Spanish channel or an infomercial on How to clean out your colon and lose weight. (Really.) Then I finally fight back to sleep, only to have those typical stress-induced dreams about drowning, trashing an executive's office or being unable to find an open toilet in a public place to clean the shite (if you're concerned, it's OK to use crude language if you say it with a British accent or in another language; it says so in the Bible, somewhere in the back, I think.) out of your soiled drawers so you're forced to wear a diaper. You know, average dreams. C'mon, you have them; 'fess up.

Yup, could really use that remote control about now.

Easing into the new year

I've been easing into this new year, kind of how you ease into a chair when you throw your back out.

I didn't hear one firecracker pop on New Year's Eve; in fact, I think I was in bed before the ball dropped most anywhere, except maybe Australia or Fiji. No champagne, no confetti, no midnight kiss, although I did give Annie a quick peck before pulling the covers over my head.

We took Ian for his RSV shot on New Year's Eve Day Morning (however you say it); turned out he needed four inoculations. He screamed and I winced and Anne teared up and Silvi asked, "Is it funny?" with a worried look on her face. He meets his new cardiologist tomorrow, then takes a hearing test next week. Happy New Year, son.

My mom's been experiencing retinal bleeding, making her virtually blind in one eye. She had emergency laser eye surgery this morning, which went as well as it could. Happy New Year, mom.

We have an appointment scheduled with the bankruptcy lawyer for next Friday. Happy New Year, Annie.

My head is full, my eyes watery, my nose running the Boston Marathon. I'm back at work and I already broke one of my resolutions at lunch today when I got a root beer float with my Wendy's #7 Combo Meal. Not to mention I have to go through all my papers to prepare for the meeting with the lawyer next week. Happy New Year, Tom.

And Silvi? She's happy and dancing and making me laugh when I don't want to laugh.

You know what? It may not be a happy new year, but I am content nonetheless... I like my life. I just wish I could spend more of it under the blankets.

Wall Street

I think this is a powerful picture.

Failing in public

As the story goes, debtors during the Medieval ages were forced to sit beneath this statue in Goslar, Germany. With their pants pulled down.

That's kind of how I feel these days: Our family will file for personal bankruptcy protection on Wednesday.

I've gone back and forth as to whether to write about this; it would be so much easier to hide it from others. I decided to go public with this failure - and it is a failure - for a few reasons.

First, I want to be open and truthful in my dialog with others. "Appropriately transparent," as my dad would say. Declaring bankruptcy is a major event in my life, one that shapes me and affects my relationships and those of my family. To deny it's impact would be untruthful and a little deceptive.

Next, I know there are many others who are reading who are in similar financial straits. These last months of surgeries and tests and doctor's visits have hit us hard; these latest bills are the final bursts of rain that have forced the river to flood over the levies. We were bailing water before Ian's medical costs. It's time to put down the pails and move to higher ground. And so I share this so that others who face similar situations will not feel quite alone.

Finally, a shared burden is much easier to carry.

I've never been very good at finances, but that's not why we are where we are. About five years ago, when I lived in Seattle, all my years of moving and loss and depression caught up to me and I was unable - or unwilling - to work for the better part of a year. Months of insomnia and aimless wandering. We lived on credit cards, using them for cash advances and to pay for groceries and rent. I dropped out of the courses I was taking toward getting a Masters degree.

Ever since then, Annie and I have been patching holes in the dike, trying to hold back the flood waters until my new business venture started generating enough for us to pay back our creditors.

I am fortunate. I make my living in the field that I love, creating videos. Sure, there is so much more that I want to do with my talents, but I know that these last twelve years of work have helped turn my hobby into a profession. Some people in my business make a good living, but most of us struggle to make ends meet. I don't plan to change professions any time soon; I do hope to one day be able to provide a little more financial security for Annie and the kids.

I've got the name of a good bankruptcy lawyer from a lawyer friend that I trust.

This isn't quite how I intended to ring in the new year.