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Grrrr... fargnax...

OK so I was so eager to have money again that my mental calendar flipped ahead by an entire week. Which means I pretty much have to keep my head in for ANOTHER week.

We have loads of stuff to eat, so it's cool. What's not cool is not having options. Like... "Meh, I don't feel like cooking, let's have Pizza/HJ's/Maccas/RandoTakeoutPlace" kind of options.

What's also not cool is that the freezer needs a defrost and, despite our best efforts, the fridge isn't refrigerating.

New whitegoods cost four figures. Meanwhile, we need to keep our food fresh. Ugh.

The water needs paying for. The bills are swarming. I have to pay for books and shoes and socks and undies and water bottles and hats.

And it looks like Beloved is shaping up to go full Indie any day now. I don't know how we're going to deal with this on Indie wages. I feel that I have no marketable skills and I'm just writing because it's the only trick I've got. And nobody's paying for any of it.

I feel useless.

If I could just sell something regularly. If I could just do something people wanted to pay for. If I could just... have the income I need to afford these things...

There are people so rich that the equivalent expenditure of a can of fizzy drink would settle all of our bills for five years. They wouldn't even notice that that much money was gone. But I'd be grateful for the rest of my life for that much peace of mind.

But rich people aren't that generous. They got and stayed rich by hanging onto whatever they had and not letting go. So I don't even have that much hope.

Please donate. I need a lot of filthy lucre. Oodles of it.