fffffuuuuuucccccckkkkkk.
I am in the depths of financial despair. It's fucking frightening. I can't seem to control my money, yet it's all I can think about.
The other day, I made a huge mistake. I spent too much money at IKEA. I immediately felt guilty for what I had done. I am currently unemployed and yet I cannot seem to resist the temptation to get THINGS.
Later that night, I had a mini panic attack as I was waiting for the bus. I was going to a friend's house for dinner. She had previously informed me that she had gone to Pike Place Market for seafood to purchase crab, halibut, clams, mussels, and shrimp. She asked me to stop by the store and purchase seafood stock and a loaf of bread.
I did this. It cost me $6.17. The feeling of bread in my hands gave me a reality bitch slap: I am the poor white girl carrying a loaf of bread going to a friend's house who lives in downtown and can afford fresh shellfish from the Pike Place Market. And yet I am behaving like my spending habits are not really an issue. It all came tumbling down so suddenly.
Then I remembered the spiritual scenario that my mom always told me about: the more you worry about money, the less you will have. BUT I CAN'T STOP WORRYING. I feel lost, abandoned, helpless, alone, scared.
I was incredibly offended when I read the previous blog entry aloud to Liz and Abby. They both shrugged it off, and Abby insisted on moving on to read Emerson. That really made me upset. I feel like my voice doesn't matter.
But then I realized "oh wait. I am behaving like a middle schooler. A fucking middle schooler."
I have a lot of pent up energy this week. I feel like a young puppy, except a puppy that drinks too much and is emotionally sensitive. I need to get my shit together. ASAP.
I am in the depths of financial despair. It's fucking frightening. I can't seem to control my money, yet it's all I can think about.
The other day, I made a huge mistake. I spent too much money at IKEA. I immediately felt guilty for what I had done. I am currently unemployed and yet I cannot seem to resist the temptation to get THINGS.
Later that night, I had a mini panic attack as I was waiting for the bus. I was going to a friend's house for dinner. She had previously informed me that she had gone to Pike Place Market for seafood to purchase crab, halibut, clams, mussels, and shrimp. She asked me to stop by the store and purchase seafood stock and a loaf of bread.
I did this. It cost me $6.17. The feeling of bread in my hands gave me a reality bitch slap: I am the poor white girl carrying a loaf of bread going to a friend's house who lives in downtown and can afford fresh shellfish from the Pike Place Market. And yet I am behaving like my spending habits are not really an issue. It all came tumbling down so suddenly.
Then I remembered the spiritual scenario that my mom always told me about: the more you worry about money, the less you will have. BUT I CAN'T STOP WORRYING. I feel lost, abandoned, helpless, alone, scared.
I was incredibly offended when I read the previous blog entry aloud to Liz and Abby. They both shrugged it off, and Abby insisted on moving on to read Emerson. That really made me upset. I feel like my voice doesn't matter.
But then I realized "oh wait. I am behaving like a middle schooler. A fucking middle schooler."
I have a lot of pent up energy this week. I feel like a young puppy, except a puppy that drinks too much and is emotionally sensitive. I need to get my shit together. ASAP.
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