(no subject)
Sep. 10th, 2005 10:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
themeletorNext person who asks me about a job?
Is going to be SHOT.
Just so that everyone who might bring it up and who is not my parents (at whom I have already just snapped) knows -- NO JOB QUESTIONS.
It is perfectly, painfully obvious to me that I do not and will not have enough money without a. But I have put in all my papers, and am not about to bust my shit over getting a work study when there's really not a lot more I can do. In the mean time, it would help NOT to remind me that I'm walking on eggshells, living on borrowed money, and hanging on to the edges of this little heaven I've found -- and I've worked hard for my grip on those edges. FUCK NO I am not letting go.
Shit, now I've let myself get really emo.
It is not good, my mood or my evening. In case you couldn't tell.
Escape would be nice, but I can't squeeze out any writing, thankyoumumanddad.
Can I just... pretend that I deserve to be here, for a little longer? Pretend that what feels more like home than my house ever did is really where I can stay? Pretend, maybe, even, that I won't have to give up sailing for lack of time (I'll have to be working) and money (can't buy gear anyway)?
I thought it would take a little more than this to make me cry.
What the hell.
Is going to be SHOT.
Just so that everyone who might bring it up and who is not my parents (at whom I have already just snapped) knows -- NO JOB QUESTIONS.
It is perfectly, painfully obvious to me that I do not and will not have enough money without a. But I have put in all my papers, and am not about to bust my shit over getting a work study when there's really not a lot more I can do. In the mean time, it would help NOT to remind me that I'm walking on eggshells, living on borrowed money, and hanging on to the edges of this little heaven I've found -- and I've worked hard for my grip on those edges. FUCK NO I am not letting go.
Shit, now I've let myself get really emo.
It is not good, my mood or my evening. In case you couldn't tell.
Escape would be nice, but I can't squeeze out any writing, thankyoumumanddad.
Can I just... pretend that I deserve to be here, for a little longer? Pretend that what feels more like home than my house ever did is really where I can stay? Pretend, maybe, even, that I won't have to give up sailing for lack of time (I'll have to be working) and money (can't buy gear anyway)?
I thought it would take a little more than this to make me cry.
What the hell.
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-11 07:16 am (UTC)I know what it's like having a rough time at work, babe. If you need help, let me know. I'm kind of broke, but if I can help—even if ten bucks from my allowance would help, email me (mollymarrou@gmail.com) your address, and I'll chuck it in the mail and hope you can get lunch. No need to pay me back. Ever.
I love you darlin', and I need you to be happy.