We are the pretty, petty things

[tanaise]

I've got a leftover cramp in my calf, left over from the blinding pain at some ungodly hour when I flexed my food and woke up and sat up in pretty much one motion. It's not as bad as some I've had in the past, though when I'm sitting up clutching my calf, it is always the worst it could possibly be. It, for example, doesn't make me limp today, which some in the past have done, and I'd actually forgotten it until a minute ago when I flexed my foot.

I have to talk to my dad about 'borrowing' a huge sum of money, as most stupid freaking places want first, last, and security. Considering how close cut my budget is right now, it is to laugh. What sucks even more is how little I can afford--this place is $750 a month, but that includes 200 worth of food. So that's $550 rent that I can afford, *maybe* $650, since it should cost me less to feed myself (I just won't eat the good stuff, and I'll probably gain weight again.). The areas that I want to live in aren't much more expensive, but I simply can't afford it on this salary, never mind that I should some day be making real money again. I hate this. So much. I'm 27, I had a good job for 3 years, and I'm going to have to beg my dad for what works out to about two paychecks from my old job, and about 3 months pay from this one. And I remembered again that I'm taking home a grand total of $20 more at this job than I was while I was on unemployment. I'm earning more, but there's more taxes.

I have to stop thinking, cause everytime I'm thinking, even about unrelated things, I'll remember suddenly that I'm broke and soon to be homeless and lonely, and have a little anxiety attack. It would be nice if I could just pause my brain and deal with it on my own speed, but I suspect my own speed is rather slower than I've got time for now. It's easier when I'm not in the house. This morning a girl who is moving out (and yes, her room is already filled for the year--all the known potential spaces in the house have been filled already) gave me a hug goodbye and said, "Don't worry, September will fly by," and I nearly burst into tears. But even here, I'll remember something amusing from the house, and then think, "oh. but I don't get to be there anymore."

Comments

[silme.livejournal.com]

I think this is all very sad -- I'm so sorry you'll be moving out of the house.

There is one plus to it, though: chefboy could date you!

[tanaise.livejournal.com]

Or at least he'd have to come up with a better excuse not to. After all, this all assumes that he wants to date me.

[silme.livejournal.com]

And why would he not? :)

Hey, which Corey Doctorow book should I start with????

[tanaise.livejournal.com]

Because why should he be any different from the rest of the world.

So far as the books go, there's only the two, so I don't think it matters much. They're both going to be completely different from the rest of the stuff that you read.

[silme.livejournal.com]

Jump his bones! :)

How so different?

[teapot-farm.livejournal.com]

But you get to visit, so you don't get to be entirely lonely. And they're part of your spiritual thang, I presume? Not that this seems adequate when one is panicky and down, but you clearly get on well with the people there, so keep up the bonding.

[tanaise.livejournal.com]

Actually, I hate that meeting by and large--it's less of a hate now than at the begining of the summer, when I stopped going after I got in the house because it annoys me by christocentric and lacking in YA members. Basically, I might continue attending, but it will depend on where I end up living.

And yes, I can still visit. But I can't stop by his room last thing at night and chat for 20 minutes.