Dear Me,

  Ugh, can life get anymore depressing?  I mean, I know I already wrote about my beloved being laid off.  THEN, yesterday, we drove past this lovely little house.  Perfect little place for us but we lack money and he says "The only way we could afford that is if we won the lottery or if your writing takes off in a sudden way.  Like in a The Di Vinci Code kind of way"

Yeah, I'm not that talented.controversial.  THOUGH, I read this:



Usually I'm not into inspirational quotes.  In fact ninety percent of the time their saccharine, vomit inducing bits of unimaginative crap.  

SO I think I'm going to be poor for the rest of my life.  And not like middle class, I have a mortgage three kids and my life is stuck until they turn thirty  kind of poor.  I mean like living pay cheque to pay cheque, It;s a probably good thing I went to the U.K when I did kind of poor.  *sigh* I wish I could just write something like Diana  Gabaldon.

I'm worried we won't make this month's rent.  I'm worried we will have to move back into my parent's house and they won't let us bring the cats with us.

Fuck this and fuck this fucking misery.

I hate my life.

The end