Walls

So I'm out in the backyard a few days ago. I bought a couple of butterfly bushes to plant as if I am going to stay here.  The backyard needs lots of empty holes plugged with plants to look better so I went ahead and got the poor plants which will probably die anyway, just like everything else in this climate. I take back as many dead plants to Lowe's as I buy new ones to sacrifice to the god of heat and sun in this awful place.
Anyway, I'm back in the corner of the yard and I notice that the wall separating me from my neighbor Dean, has gaps that you can see through in the joints of the block.  No more mortar holds the wall together, only the memory remains of what the blocks were supposed to be doing when the laborers slapped the wall up back in 1998.  "Jeez!" I say to myself. "What next? What more can go wrong with this place that I will have to fix or repair or maintain?"  I get so tired of the worry that the next shoe to fall will be something that costs thousands.
Maintaining the wall and the house is like maintaining my equilibrium in my life. I need those floaties that little kids wear to keep treading water.  The only difference is that floaties for adults are made of numbers in a bank account.
I only have a couple of months left here before I travel up north to find a summer job.  I don't expect any financial gain from the job, because all my income will go toward rent and expenses. I really hope that I will get some divine inspiration as to where I will be in 2015.  I'm so tired of being me, of being me here, and of feeling like crap about living in general.
I take Robbie for 2 walks a day.  There are people out everywhere here, but none of them are friend material.  Everyone is old or already has a walking friend or a swimming buddy or a companion. On weekends I go to a dog park and talk to other people who are my age. Its nice, but they all have places to go, and people(family) to see.  I have no interest in dating, but c'mon- the few people I talk to anymore are non drinkers! Gary and I used to do a happy hour once a week and it was something I really looked forward to.  Now I got nuthin'. I'm not about to sit at home and drink alone. Its not about drinking either, because neither of us usually drank more than one anyway.  It was just the companionship of sitting there totally relaxed, watching the TV above the bar, or watching people, hearing snippets of conversations that prompted one or both of us to think of something we hadn't told the other before.
Yesterday morning I woke up and as usual, my first thought was, What day is it? Monday. Oh. Now that I have no husband to care for or about, no friends or relatives nearby to call or visit,  no reason to go to physical therapy, grief groups, or doctors, I don't need to 'get' anywhere. Yesterday, for the very first time, I had the conscious thought: My life has no purpose.
  
My existence is like the backyard wall. There are big gaps in it and its a sure bet it will eventually fall down.