Bruised. -edit-

Not sure how well these will come out. Someone suggested I take a photo of the bruise I was discussing. I’m surprised, it’s not as ugly as I feared it would get. It’s only just slightly darker than my skin, unless I’m under flourescent lights, and then it does show hints of purpleyellowness. Perhaps this is all the worse it will get, tho there seems to be an awful lot of blood just floating around under there for it not to turn a few more shades of something. I dunno, as I don’t generally bruise much. Even when they try to draw blood and have to dig around for 5 minutes, I still don’t tend to bruise. Sometimes I do, but not severly and it generally goes away after a day or two. So. Time will tell….

—–edit——

Fuck. I just went to pay my car payment. I’m not even *close* to being able to pay my rent. Which is due…oh….TOMORROW?? I should have a paycheck waiting at the university for me, but it’s not going to be for more than $100 or so, if even that. Shit. In 3 years of living on my own, I’ve never -not- been able to cover rent. Indeed, I’ve never -nopt- been able to cover everything that needed covered. All of my other bills, I am pretty sure, are covered for the month cuz I payed most of them with the money M gave me for cat-sitting and tidying up her house. And, I -should- have enough in next week’s paycheck from the psych center (combined with this week’s pay from school) to eek out rent. But that means it’ll be a week+ late. Ugh. I’m sure it’s been late before, at least to my current landlords, because I have to mail it to them unlike my last landlord, where I could just drop it off at his office, which was much more convenient for me. And resulted in me not forgetting it as often, or at least being able to still get it in on time when I didn’t think of it til last minute. Still. I try so hard -not- to mess up on things like this.

I’m feeling bruised in more ways than one.

The irony is that not even an hour ago, I was writing to a friend explaining that things such as cutting, in the long run, didn’t help. Yet. I can feel it in the air. There are other ways J is sure to say. But.

But I’m defeated, ya know? This time in full. There’s no way to look differently at it. I’ve fucked up. For all of the times mum and H and whoever else have told me that there’s no way I can survive on my own….apparently they were correct. And of course there’s only one single soul to blame, and that’s me. I don’t know when I became so irresponsible as to let this happen.

Defeated. So frigging defeated.

Lah. Tho. I think I just figured something out.

Thanks to the wonders of online banking, I can move money from my bank loan/visa into my checking account. They charge me an arm and a fucking leg in interest probably. And I had 2/3 of the damn thing paid off (I originally took it out 2(?) years ago, to pay for a summer course that i needed in order to start the nursing program. It’s taken me this long to even get 2/3 of it paid off, and it wasn’t even that much money. UGH.)

Rob Peter to pay Paul?

i fucking hate money.

Pandora is sitting in my lap lickingmy hands right now, her solid cotton body pressed into my arms, purring like a motorboat, else I’d be majorly freaking right now.

Or. Freaking more majorly than I already am.