...I'm out of 'em.
For far too long, I've been scratching along, thinking "if only I can get through this month" it might be possible to actually start looking -- and planning -- ahead.
So much for that.
In ways I can't go into too much detail about, the economy in general and some of the government's recent actions in particular have been pulling out the last few shaky supports to my continued survival. What I can say is that work has been dwindling, and as of yesterday (Monday) a client on whom I have long depended for a fair amount of work this time of year informed me that the current president's crackdown on the automobile industry has probably reduced this year's workload to a fraction of normal. If, indeed, there is any work for me.
Not that I have been able to do much on what little work I have from other sources. Checks are even slower than usual in arriving, and the one that has arrived in the past seven weeks was for much less than expected. That tends to make me unenthusiastic and uncreative.
Also makes it difficult to keep eating....
In four hours, a bunch of taxes will increase here in the People's State of California. Not all will affect me -- the idea of being able to buy a car is simply laughable; no matter how much the sales tax and license fees increase, I couldn't make the nut anyway -- but many will.
I can't afford to go, and I can't afford to stay.
Oddly enough, I have only occasional flashes of panic about the disaster that looms in the next few days. Maybe that's because I can't do damn-all about it this time. I have felt guilt and shame in the past, have felt I was letting people down because I made promises to creditor-type people based on promises made to me. I pulled in my own horns, saving the last few pennies for others....
I can't work up any shame this time. I do what I do to survive. I can't give up any more than I already have.
I have applied for several jobs in the last two weeks, including one that actually sounds like something I'm qualified for and could do very well. No responses yet. Based on experience over the past months, I don't expect responses. The days of a courteous "thank you for applying...don't call us, we'll call you" reply are over. Nowadays, you throw the application into a black hole, and never know if a human saw it.
I don't have the energy to fight this. In a way, I've been fighting it for 23 years now, though the first few years seemed as if I was winning. Not now.
I hate the stuporous days, the dreamless nights that provide no rest. The clock moves, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, and days go by without anything being accomplished.
And I hate not feeling. I don't even feel anger at my own mistakes and the duplicity of those who have used me. I feel nothing.
That seems dangerous, somehow.
17 hours ago