First off, Lonespark is right that I really need to get more content up here that isn't just talking about how terrible life is and how everything is bad. This was never meant to be a place for that. It was meant to be a place for stories. And not the depressing kind of stories that leave you sad for a month and a half.
And yet . . . here I am. Things are bad.
There was a non-monthly expense due this month. The big one. (Property tax, if you're wondering.) The good news is that at some point it became lower than it once was. It's $635.40 now. Still, if you divide that by three to get what it actually costs per-month, the result is $211.8 and it's the single biggest "keep me from going homeless" expense by far.
It was due six days ago. I didn't pay it. In spite of what I thought earlier in the month, I can't pay it.
The non-monthly expenses, like the property tax, are scary as all fuck because they're the ones where not paying will eventually make me homeless, but that "eventually" means that there are very solid pragmatic reasons to make sure the other expenses are paid first.
I can't pay them first. I can't cover them. If everything stayed as it is today, I'd fall $96.03 short of the other expenses, which would make me $731.43 short for the month in total when the property tax is added in.
Things won't stay as they are. Things won't for the same reason that I'm finding myself ludicrously low on money when I thought I would have more than enough.
It's food. I have no money for food. At this present moment, my food stamps don't exist. They didn't last month either. The annual review was in March and my depression was doing a thing which meant I didn't do the followup call until . . . maybe this month. The follow up call revealed a need for additional paperwork, which then took some time to get to me, and
I just got some unrelated news. It has nothing to do with my finances and I'm not ready to talk about it anyway. I . . . just can't.
I can't, but I still need to vent some. I guess I'm going to talk around the issue without ever addressing it directly, because how else could you vent about something you're not ready to talk about? Feel free to stop reading to avoid getting caught in the exhaust.
Unless someone somewhere has a literal million dollars (right fucking now) that they're willing to loan to me, even though I'm like the opposite of . . . I don't know the words. No one in their right mind would ever consider loaning me any sizable sum of money, is the point. I mean, see above. The fact that I would genuinely try to pay it back just means that I'd likely spend the rest of my life failing to pay it back, which in turn means it wouldn't get paid back.
So, anyway, here in the real world everything is completely terrible, in part because there's absolutely nothing anyone can do to help, least of all me. The news was about home, not someone suffering some illness or injury, so at least there's that. No one is hurt. Somehow I don't find that very comforting.
And I fucking begged everyone involved to keep me in the loop and they promised they would. Instead last I heard everything was going to be acceptable (not perfect, but not this) with no need for any money whatsoever*, and then I find out none of that was true. Not even because they God-damned set out to tell me things had changed, either. I noticed something that didn't quite fit, and only in the course of explaining that detail did the truth come out.
Fuck everything. I'm just going to be here crying, having persistent thoughts about how it would be less painful to just bash my head into a wall until the physical pain overrode my ability to emotionally process things, and crying more because I'm not actually one to partake in self-harm.
*The reason for the change from "don't need any money" to "I'd need a million dollars (or, possibly, more) right this instant" is that the deal that was supposed to bring about partial salvation was altered to do nothing of the sort, no one bothered to tell me of that fucking massive change, and the people who have final say were apparently fine with it (which, hey, they're getting half a million dollars each.)
Which means that the only thing that could possibly save things at this point is to show up out of nowhere with a higher offer. Which is impossible. Because a fucking million dollars.
And yet . . . here I am. Things are bad.
There was a non-monthly expense due this month. The big one. (Property tax, if you're wondering.) The good news is that at some point it became lower than it once was. It's $635.40 now. Still, if you divide that by three to get what it actually costs per-month, the result is $211.8 and it's the single biggest "keep me from going homeless" expense by far.
It was due six days ago. I didn't pay it. In spite of what I thought earlier in the month, I can't pay it.
The non-monthly expenses, like the property tax, are scary as all fuck because they're the ones where not paying will eventually make me homeless, but that "eventually" means that there are very solid pragmatic reasons to make sure the other expenses are paid first.
I can't pay them first. I can't cover them. If everything stayed as it is today, I'd fall $96.03 short of the other expenses, which would make me $731.43 short for the month in total when the property tax is added in.
Things won't stay as they are. Things won't for the same reason that I'm finding myself ludicrously low on money when I thought I would have more than enough.
It's food. I have no money for food. At this present moment, my food stamps don't exist. They didn't last month either. The annual review was in March and my depression was doing a thing which meant I didn't do the followup call until . . . maybe this month. The follow up call revealed a need for additional paperwork, which then took some time to get to me, and
FUCK
I just got some unrelated news. It has nothing to do with my finances and I'm not ready to talk about it anyway. I . . . just can't.
I can't, but I still need to vent some. I guess I'm going to talk around the issue without ever addressing it directly, because how else could you vent about something you're not ready to talk about? Feel free to stop reading to avoid getting caught in the exhaust.
~ ~ ~
Unless someone somewhere has a literal million dollars (right fucking now) that they're willing to loan to me, even though I'm like the opposite of . . . I don't know the words. No one in their right mind would ever consider loaning me any sizable sum of money, is the point. I mean, see above. The fact that I would genuinely try to pay it back just means that I'd likely spend the rest of my life failing to pay it back, which in turn means it wouldn't get paid back.
So, anyway, here in the real world everything is completely terrible, in part because there's absolutely nothing anyone can do to help, least of all me. The news was about home, not someone suffering some illness or injury, so at least there's that. No one is hurt. Somehow I don't find that very comforting.
And I fucking begged everyone involved to keep me in the loop and they promised they would. Instead last I heard everything was going to be acceptable (not perfect, but not this) with no need for any money whatsoever*, and then I find out none of that was true. Not even because they God-damned set out to tell me things had changed, either. I noticed something that didn't quite fit, and only in the course of explaining that detail did the truth come out.
Fuck everything. I'm just going to be here crying, having persistent thoughts about how it would be less painful to just bash my head into a wall until the physical pain overrode my ability to emotionally process things, and crying more because I'm not actually one to partake in self-harm.
-
*The reason for the change from "don't need any money" to "I'd need a million dollars (or, possibly, more) right this instant" is that the deal that was supposed to bring about partial salvation was altered to do nothing of the sort, no one bothered to tell me of that fucking massive change, and the people who have final say were apparently fine with it (which, hey, they're getting half a million dollars each.)
Which means that the only thing that could possibly save things at this point is to show up out of nowhere with a higher offer. Which is impossible. Because a fucking million dollars.
No comments:
Post a Comment