I read a blog post that hit home the other day. Newsflash, strippers aren’t loaded! I’m making my final student loan payment today, but thanks to an impulsive, better safe than sorry, 9-1-1 call in December, I managed to sink myself back into 5K debt literally overnight. After working my ass off to settle exactly that much in slowly accumulated credit card debt.
The kicker is, because I have a tough source of income to verify on paper, renewing my insurance in an attempt to file a claim on my extremely pricey hospital excursion is far from painless. If I had the balls, I’d forward my medical bills to my asshole father, since the stress he caused me during holiday season more or less led directly to my insomnia and Nyquil/Benadryl OD (it was not fun, feeling as if bugs were crawling all over me was the highlight.)
It’s depressing, but valid, to admit that I hit my colleagues up for anxiety pills and, although I’ve “run away” from home and family yet again, I’m merely postponing and back-burnering my problems, not eliminating them. I was a basket case back home and I feel pretty level-headed down here, but the stove can’t have all four burners on simmer forever.