f*ck

There was another topic I was going to blog about today. I was all prepared to write an insightful post about how people's perspective seems to skew when they have kids.

Then I found out that I didn't get approved for the apartment in Harlem because I'm unemployed--even though it's cheap enough that I could *easily* pay the rent living on unemployment alone, and even though I created a detailed description of likely scenarios for my freelance income.

In other words--I am totally, 100%, utterly, fucked.

I need to find a cheaper apartment, because I'm unemployed.

Nobody wants to give me an apartment, because I'm unemployed.

If I can't even get approved for a fucking low-income apartment, how the hell will I get approved for a normal apartment???

And even though my mother insisted on bringing up the subject right before bed every night that I was home this weekend, I am NOT moving back in with my parents. That would be tantamount to giving up my entire life and everything I've worked (and gone into debt) for, and I just can't do it.

And to top it all off, as I sit here in a spiraling state of panic and despair even worse than the one that sent me scampering off to buy cigarettes last week... I have an audition in 5 hours, and I'm so consumed with being a basket-case over my looming homelessness that I can't even think about it.

f*ck

f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck

F*CK

That is how I feel today.

I wasted my apartment-karma living in rent control for four years while the economy was healthy, pissing away my money on all those things we piss our money away on in our early 20s. Now that I really need that karma, it's nowhere to be found.

Sorry that the blog has turned into a circus of self-pity lately, but being that that's pretty much all that's going on in my life these days, it's all I've got.

motherfucker.