The office job doesn't start until next Wednesday; fortunately, the Cubs did just well enough to let me work a few more days at the bar, so I was able to keep my head above water and keep most of the bill collectors off my back for another month.
I wonder how long I'm going to live like this? Credit card debt has trampled me for years, and I never figure out how to get it gone. It only ever gets worse. Obviously, I never learned what to do with my money properly when I had it. Now I'm making half what I used to and I'm still able to stay afloat, if barely—this means the last nine years I worked in Dallas I could have been putting half my income at my debt, into savings, or what have you, and never have to worry about money again.
Why is it we only figure out what we should have BEEN doing instead of what we should BE doing?
Am I going to figure it out before I die? Does anyone? Or do they just get lucky?
I'm glad to be up here with Heather, that's a fact. She's helping me out with rent—a fact that shames me a bit, but makes me honored to be with her. She knows how many times I sacrificed going after a career because of the impact it has on my financial situation, so she's making sure I don't have a lack of money as an excuse to not go out and audition for things in the evenings.
I'm worried, I'm scared, and I'm stressed, yet I am more fortunate than others.
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