rant

Hello, blog-friends.  Today I'm not going to write about love or sex or even romantic struggles.  Today I'm just going to write about struggles.  Today I'm going to write about how I feel like the universe is out to get to me.  Is this melodrama?  I really can't tell the difference anymore between my life and melodrama.  I can tell you that it doesn't feel like melodrama.  I can tell you that it feels bad.  Bad.  Hearing how other people have it worse will not make me feel better, not even a little.  Please don't give me those lines.

I have been trying to make my career work, since I lost my wonderful amazing job last spring, by piecing together other work here and there.  But this is quite an undertaking... it involves a pretty constant experience of rejection.  I'm not sure why it has been that way, because I know that I'm really, really good at what I do, and really qualified.  And other people way less skilled than I am are making money in this career.  Yet, I am not. In the past few weeks, I've had the experience of having one of my mentors stab me in the back.  I've had the experience of making a pretty huge monetary investment in a client only to have that client disappear before he returned on his investment.  I've had colleagues take me for granted, and other colleagues treat me as though I have nothing to offer.

Also-- health.  I have dermatitis, and it's covering my body.  I have to take baths in bleach. And I have to take steroids that make me sick to my stomach.  Looking now to a different organ system, my health insurance has stopped paying for my birth control pills.  This freaks Gerard out because he knows that I start crying every time I go on Facebook and find out that another three people are pregnant and I am not.  We can't take care of a baby right now, as we are already having a pretty hard time taking care of ourselves, and that sucks.  So it makes having sex feel complicated.  Even though we could both really stand to get laid right now.

And, my dog.  She has a hot spot and it's been impossible to take care of.  I have to put her in an Elizabethan collar, which makes her cry because it's already too hot in our apartment and she doesn't feel good stuck inside that "cone of shame."  But when I have it off of her, I could turn my head away for 2 minutes and then suddenly 3 days of healing go to hell when she gets to scratching.  And I paid $80 for the antibiotics that she's on, plus $90 for the steroids to help control her incessant itching.  That's $170 that I do not have.

Last night Gerard and I decided to order Chinese food, because usually getting takeout from a Chinese takeout place is cheaper than actually buying food and cooking it, and we were feeling stressed out and not in a good cooking place.  But somehow we calculated wrong and we ended up paying more than we intended for this food, and then on top of that it was really crappy food.  And then I just did it again-- I went out and bought disgusting high fructose corn syrup cookies, thinking that it would just be a guilty pleasure that would give me a feeling of relief.  But they were way too expensive too, and now that I've eaten 3 I wish I would have just skipped it.

I just need to rave today, and I can't do it on Facebook because I have too many professional colleagues there.  I have to seem like I'm making it work to the outside world, even though my actual feelings are that everything is falling apart.