Not March, ME.
As I wrote on my facebook status today (after working at Starbucks for the afternoon because I didn’t have the money to re-up my internet at home)
In January you swept my legs out from under me.
In February you kicked me while I was down.
Kudos. Nice try.
It’s March now, and the bitch is back.
I’ve had enough of your shit.
You have been warned.
It’s like I go through Kubler-Ross stages of depression… and I have hit the anger portion of the program. Which is a good thing, because anger motivates me more than anything. (which actually, in hindsight, might not be the best scenario… but hey, whatever works at this point)
I’m tired of everything in my life turning into a “Sophie’s Choice” moment. Do I pay rent or do I eat? Do I “waste” $6 to transport myself to/from an event, or do I continue to exist in this hermit like state.
I have $35 dollars to my name currently. (only because I took the bowl of change on my counter to the grocery store, and it added up to $30) $15 of that could go to internet, but I have been eating rotisserie chicken and apples for a week now, and I would really like to change it up. Not that $35 is going to go very far, but I could make a half decent Shepherd’s Pie… and since I don’t know when my “pay” is actually going to arrive, I don’t want to leave myself short of cash.
I’m 0 for 2 on getting paid for work done in February. This can’t happen anymore. I need to find work with people who A) value my time/effort/talent and B) actually pay for it.
I had one of those moments of clarity this week, while sorting my laundry. I don’t own a pair of socks or underwear without a hole. I can’t tell you the last time I bought myself new underwear. Such a basic accoutrement in life, and yet, such a luxury to me. Gone are the days of Bi-Way, when you could grab yourself 10 pairs of cute, cheap cotton panties. Now a pair of gitch is $10. Ha! right.
Since no one sees them, I just put up with the stretched out, faded, falling apart undergarments.
Same goes for the socks, the stained t-towels, the chipped plates/bowls, the broken desk chair, and on, and on, and on…
Why is this an acceptable way to live? IT ISN’T!!