So already with my books I've made 20 bucks. Not bad for just out of the gate. My auctions are going reasonably well. A little extra change.
I also picked up a website design job from my best friend Cooky. Why she would pay me when she could get someone who really knows what they are doing is beyond me. But I've learned do not argue with the Cooky when she has her mind made up.
My Byootiful has been very sick lately and we went to the ER today. And what a VAST improvement that was over the last visit. If you are in Seattle and need an ER screw Northwest Hospital and go to Swedish.
The staff was caring and attentive. We were only there for 5 hours which included full blood tests, urinalysis, nurses checking on BOTH of us from time to time. It was overall a decent visit. I will be heading out in a few hours here to pick up his prescriptions. And a few essentials and mailing supplies.
Found out today that despite the fact that the check for my rent for this month has been cashed I still have to go to eviction court on the fifth. I'm really really unprepared for that. If they insist that I have to pay anyway plus the mysterious 764 dollars they have said I owe them (with no fucking explanation about it even though I've left voicemails, faxes, notes etc) I don't know what I'll do.
As much as I really don't want to I have a feeling I might have to take a loan out from work. I have a feeling they are going to make me pay anyway and I don't have clue one as to what I can do about it.
In other news I am going to be applying for low income housing for us. I've found a private organization that I think I'm in love with. Not only do they have beautiful buildings in really great neighborhoods but, even if you do start making more money you don't have to move.
To tell the truth about it I'm a little terrified that this corporate fuck up will fuck my chances of being able to move. I'm terrified that with Byootiful sick I'm going to have to pack us up and get us moved. I'm afraid that I won't be able to find us another place to live. I'm afraid that we'll wind up homeless. I'm afraid that I am seriously fucking up not just my own life but his too.
I just realized that there was a time that I would have never written that in this journal. I impress myself.
Anyhow I'm going to keep on doing what I'm doing. As I've said to more than one friend, 'Surviving is what I do.'
That is one of the things that is absolutely true about me.
As low and fucked up as my life has gotten. As depressed and quasi suicidal as I've been. As reckless as I've been with my own life there has always been a single constant.
*Cue the Gloria Gaynor music*
The truth is as scared, helpless and hopeless as I may feel sometimes. I know what kind of reserves I've got.
So here's to me. *(I just raised my bright pink plastic tumbler of shitty white wine in toast to myself)
Fuck being beat down. Fuck it right in the goatass.