I applied for food stamps today.

I never thought this day would come. Every time I’ve been down to just a handful of pennies in my piggy bank, or opened a letter saying that my bank account was overdrawn once again, or had to explain to a landlord that my rent was going to be late, I never imagined it would come to this.

I had to apply for food stamps today.

My husband isn’t working right now. He left an OK job for a great job, one that paid double what he had been earning, and after 3 weeks they informed him that because of an old repossession in his credit report, he was no longer employed. He travelled to Illinois for that job, leaving me here with no transportation and no one to depend on to get me to work. It was alright, though. Once he was bringing in the big money, it would all be OK. We’d pay all the bills up and start saving.

He’s been looking for a job for a month now. He’s filled out countless applications and made endless phone calls. There have been no reasonable offers, and each lead quickly becomes a dead end. He’s trying, doing everything he can to get a job, but it just isn’t working. We’ve missed rent twice so far, and 3 car payments. I only make minimum wage, and even with 40 hours a week, I can’t pay half the bills on my own.

We are on the verge of being homeless. The landlord has already threatened eviction, and I don’t know what I’ll do if we get kicked out of our house. We have no family or friends to stay with nearby, and it will cost us at least $2000 to move back to Illinois.

There isn’t much left for us to do. My husband is still owed for the 3 weeks he worked in Illinois, but we don’t know when that check will come. I will go tomorrow to see if I can find a factory job in addition to the job I have now.

I hate that I need help. That we need help. I want to be the one who gives to the less fortunate, not the one who needs assistance. I work hard, but I still can’t pay the bills. My husband is eager to go back to work, but there just aren’t any opportunities.

We applied for food stamps today.


It wasn’t failure. It was just a success that didn’t come to fruition.

I’ve been awake since 5:00 am. I know, that’s normal for a lot of people. For me, being awake that early usually means I haven’t gone to bed yet.

I decided before I rolled out from under the covers that I was going to be productive today. Three hours, a shower, and a big cup of coffee later, I’ve accomplished… absolutely nothing.


I want to be writing right now. “But you are writing!” you argue. Sure, it looks like I’m writing. What I’m actually doing is thinking while my fingers are on the keyboard– that doesn’t count as writing. Writing is what I do when I have a notebook and a pen and a story idea that my hand can barely keep up with.

I started this story a few months ago. It’s called Finitely Endless (mostly because I love the opposition of that title), and I think it has potential. I’d tell you about it, but chances are someone here will read all the details and make it into a complete, marketable novel before I do. Maybe I should just hire a ghostwriter– I supply the idea, they supply the filler needed to create 300+ pages of literary gold.

I got a page and a half in before I started to doubt myself. I went back to read what I had written before, and I don’t like it.

I really need to find a more forgiving critic to look over my work. Unfortunately, my only choice is my husband, and he’s a little biased.

So now what? I’ve read the few blogs that have already been posted today, and I’m feeling ready to lay down and go back to sleep for a few more hours. I could play some Super Mario Brothers, but I’m guessing my lack-of-sleep attention span will make my game a disaster. It’s a perfect day to go garage saling, my favorite spring activity EVER, but I’m broke. Sigh.

And also? My office smells like a litter box. I’m not sure exactly what my cats have marked– whatever it is, I need to find it and get it the hell out of here. Quickly. I swear, I have the five most possessive cats who ever lived. I’m surprised they don’t pee on me in my sleep to remind each other who I belong to.

Sigh, again.

I should probably work on a more detailed outline for this story. I’ve already decided what I want to accomplish in the first few chapters, but I don’t have a detailed structure to work with. Seems like as good a place to start as any, I suppose.

I’ve decided to start treating writing like a real job– granted, I’m not sure this commitment will last more than a day or two. I want to be at my desk by a specified time every day, and write for at least a few hours. I figure since I’m unemployed, I can at least pretend like I have a real job.

This was a lot more fun when I was little and the careers required less work… just saying.

If I were my boss, I’d tell me not to come back tomorrow.

But beginnings are hard! And so are middles! Endings, on the other hand– I can handle those. I can make endings my bitch.

At least I’ve got a good title…

To my fellow writers– got any tips to help me get started? Any words of encouragement? Is it possible to make my story write itself?

Protected: Stupid life, costing money all the time…

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