I wrote out two large checks and sighed. My bank account was looking more and more sad with each expense. Moving was going to be so expensive that I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to afford my place after I moved in. A second job, of course, was always an option, but I dreaded the exhaustion as well as the emotional trauma of dealing with another place of occupation and it’s people.
The last time I had a second job it didn’t go so well. The people sucked and so did the customers. The hours would never work for me to get to my other job on time. It just was a bad idea.
The things I cannot afford, of course, are things I do not need. I can give up my design freelance for a while so I won’t have internet other than what I can get on my phone. I can buy food sparingly. I don’t need another article of clothing in my life. I can find ways to go without using a ton of lights and electricity. Yet, none of it feels like enough. The only way my friends afford life is having a spouse to help bring in money, or by living rent free with family.
I still feel like I have set myself up to fall flat on my face. So here I am panic stricken over money. Angry over every silly thing I have ever purchased. Hating myself for needing things like food and having medical expenses. Wondering if it’s all going to be worth it.