The 22nd-ing

Feeling fucking bad yo. Dejected as fuck. Guilty, worried. If I spend literally $0 I’ll have exactly $4 less than I need to pay the last credit card bill of the month. Maybe I can scrounge for some fucking change. Maybe one of you 288 people wanna hook it up for me. (Lemme know if you do! That’d be rad!I’ll give you my PayPal info!) I applied for 6 (or possibly 7 I honestly don’t remember) freelance jobs on upwork today, and I’m going to try for more tomorrow. Haven’t heard anything back yet. Haven’t been too keen to take new assignments via that website cuz they take a fucking 20% cut now but… I’ll take anything at this point. Maybe one of you 288 people want to hire me to write something. I can write fucking anything. (Lemme know if you do! That’d be rad! I’ll give you my PayPal info!) I’m tired. Fundamentally exhausted. A dude in his 40s hit on me at the store today. Like… Pretty aggressively. Like… Followed me down two separate aisles trying to engage me despite my super clear non-interest / actively trying to get away. He finally said “we should exchange numbers” and I said “I don’t want to do that. Peace.” And continued walking away and he finally left me alone. I was not in a good state to have to deal with that. Like honestly it wasn’t even that big of a deal but I was already feeling worn, sad, weak and vulnerable and it kinda fucked me up. Like… Tearing up in the car, slightly shaking status. I couldn’t even bring myself to talk about it out loud when I got home so here we fucking are. Yeah. I’m tired. Fundamentally exhausted. Tomorrow brings more applying and applying myself. Also my dad’s birthday is Saturday and I need to figure out how to get him something with my $-4. Hit me up if you wanna make a charitable donation or commission me to write literally anything. (That’d be rad! I’ll give you my PayPal info!)

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