Wednesday, May 25, 2011
I hate that my life revolves around money more now the poorer I am. I think if I was rich, I wouldn't even think about money, or worry about it. I would be responsible with it, but I don't think I would have any problem giving it away to charities or friends that needed a hand. But I hate money. I hate that it seems to rule my life. I hate that I lie awake at night thinking about how I'm going to get more of it, how I'm going to just make ends meet. I hate dreading going to the gas pump because I'm afraid that it will reject my debit card or just drain my account dry as it all gets pumped into my tank. I hate that I walk through the grocery store and price out the cheapest brand of something that still tastes okay, just so I can get the most food to last two weeks for my measly hundred dollars or so. I hate that I have to go to my parents house and use their washing machine and dryer, just so I don't have to pay for laundry that I can't afford anyways. I am just tired of thinking about it all the time, all day. Stretched to the max. Everything I do... stretched thin.