So, my roommate is moving out. I’m super sad about that, but mostly freaking out about finding a new roommate. I have put an ad in the paper locally and plastered the neighborhood with flyers and such. I’ve even got a little sign on my mailbox for the people that drive through the area.
I’m sick with worry. I haven’t really had any leads on finding a roommate and am feeling slightly hopeless about it. I do NOT want to move again. I do NOT want to have to uproot the boy again. I will NOT change his school.
Bills are always piling up, but most especially work is slow. And money is scarce.
I’m in this sort of black hole of poverty. I don’t qualify for food stamps or child care assistance because I get too much in child support… But I don’t get THAT much in child support.
So this leaves me fairly well fucked.
I work for my father and working for him affords me a lot of freedom. If the boy child is sick, I can bring him with me and lay him down on the floor in the nook behind my desk. It’s just very flexible.
But… I haven’t been able to work full time hours in a year. I’ve kept holding on and holding on because daddy keeps being hopeful… But the bottom line is that I’m poor. Super broke. It’s kind of disgusting.
Like… I make HOW much a week? Fuckin’a.
I have been applying for a month or more for part time positions but just don’t have enough free time for a part time job — everywhere I am applying is asking for 25-30 for part time work. Uhm… That’s what I’m getting for “full time” work. Eep. So, last night, I applied and/or emailed about seven new jobs, most of which are in my field and are full time. I will be crushed to leave my job now with my dad, but I’ve got to get my priorities in order. I’ve got to make shit happen for my little family.
I am also under water with this whole crush thing… Not overwhelmed with it, just… unfamiliar. Here’s a bright and interesting and attractive man who BOOKED HIS FLIGHT to come visit me. Me. Mess of a woman, me. Lawd. I’m so very excited to see him, though I think technically, I’m supposed to say I’m so excited to meet him. I think we’re both under unique stress, and both really looking forward to a weekend of escaping and fun. I’m nervous but excited. I have never done anything like this.
He should be arriving on a Friday evening. I plan to take him to my favorite taco joint for dinner and then maybe a walk/pub stroll. That’s as far as I’ve gotten. I can’t figure out what all I want to do with him — he doesn’t KNOW my city and I want to show it to him. We’ll have all day Saturday and then most of the day on Sunday before he will have to leave mid-afternoon to return to his home and cram for his giant exam the following Friday.
It’s all very romantic and lovely with promises of spanish poetry and hugs and conversation and just lovely, lovely things. I’m excited.
This weekend, I vow to get shit done. I will have a productive weekend. I am taking the boy to my sister’s tonight and we’re all going to have a sleepover. He will be so thrilled to see his cousin. Tomorrow will be a day full of canvasing the neighborhood and posting my neon green flyers trying to find a roommate. Sunday will be laundry day. It’s all clean just needs to be folded and put away. PUT AWAY. I will do it. Dammit.
I just will. This is how I do… Grab my bootstraps and make shit happen. It just will work out. I will find a roommate. I will figure out my money situation. I will have a lovely weekend and then a crazy December. I just will.