Other things that are not shit.

Okay so after my minor meltdown yesterday I’m okay.

I have almost enough money for my chromebook, I have to use part of it for shoes and food but whatever.

But guess what?

My good news is that I got a major deal in my life acceptance. My Oshun story will be in Expanded Horizons this month. Holy shit.

Holy. Shit.

This is my first spec fic type publication and to get it into a magazine that I have honestly been an enormous fan of for years now is pretty exciting.

I am so excited. I am really into this going on.

I will post the appropriate links when it’s time.

Officially in 2013 thus far I have made 80$ writing. 80 more than I made last year.

What else?

Right.

I honestly wish that living on the edge and poverty was actually romantic. The thing is, between worrying about my dayjob, my ever growing commute, finances I’ve had precious little emotional or mental or shit physical energy to write new things.

It’s so hard for me to feel okay enough to write anything quality when I am so worried about other things. Stress is a killer.

I try to write sometimes and all I can really do is try to work out ways of bringing in more money so if I need a new pair of shoes (I do right now) I don’t have to try and carve it out of our already tight budget.

I’m trying to be good to myself. I’m trying to not get sick because I honestly can’t be missing work right now. So I’m trying to calm down.

I’m trying to not let myself not get the stupid chromebook because I need a new pair of shoes and my partner needs new shoes and we both need lightweight spring coats. I don’t know. Writing is so important to me but, because I have as of yet been unable to keep myself in new shoes and coats with it, I feel like I can’t give it as much as it needs.

Some days even when I have a success, I still feel like everything on the planet that I like or am interested in, is there only to remind me that I’m too poor to play and it’s hurtful.

Not just hobbies and shit.

Basic shit like, saying hey my shoes are worn out and hurt my feet, maybe I should buy new ones.

Poverty that one is not playing at, that can’t be put away or solved with a call to Mummy and Daddy is really hard.

Hopefully things will straighten out enough that the choke hold will loosen up so I can write more freely.

That’s all for right now.

Goodnight.

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