oh god, oh god, it's all gone wrong

[nepenthe]

  

Nothing is going according to plan.

You know that second job I got in retail in order to pay off bills and squirrel away money so that I could spend January-March writing and building a backlog? My heater busted and I spent the money fixing it!

I accidentally spilled coffee on my phone and broke it; it works 100% fine except no one can hear me talking. This. . .might not turn out to be a bad thing. I’ve paid insurance on this phone and my contract is up in March. I could pay the $150 deductible and get a brand new version of my phone, drop my carrier and switch to a new provider where I’d only be paying for their plan, not the phone.

My cruise job says that sometime end of January, start of February, they expect to move me home. I was very pleased, as that is a key part of my plan, until my boss said they’d be getting us webcams. That’s right. Fucking webcams. Do any of the other departments require their at-home employees to have a camera pointed at them, monitoring their every facial expression? To make sure they’re not doing other things while they’re on the clock? No, they do not.

Will I be able to initiate my plan to write in my downtime on my own laptop if there’s a webcam planted on me?

 

No.

 

Fucking fucking fuck.

It’s all coming apart.

I realize now my plans were all gossamer in nature, that my total lack of a security net has gotten me into a lot of trouble; that my bank’s inability to send me a fucking debit card (it’s been over two months—they keep sending it, it doesn't arrive at my home, twice, they send it to the branch which is in a grocery store, the grocery store can’t find the mail key, the branch didn’t get it and I have 1, maybe 2 days of the week I can go in to the bank if I’m lucky because I work TWO JOBS ALL THE TIME).

I heard a rumor at the retail job they’re interested in not just hiring on 5 newbies, but 16. But I’ve heard no noise specifying me so they might not want me at all and I'll be SOL in a week. I haven’t even heard when, precisely, the gig is supposed to end. But, if they do ask if I’d like to stay on, I’m going to say yes. With a miserable, heavy heart, I will say yes and ask if I could work a few less hour a week and not work at all on Saturdays so I can have one day a week off.

And then, I might just have to say, ‘fuck sleep; sleep is for the dead. Fuck a clean house; it’s good as long as I change the litter box. Fuck making my own meals, I’m going to spend my little extra dough I’m earning on take-out’.

This is not likely to work. At all. I am so far behind on my writing. I got so little done in December under the expectation I’d have a squirrel fund for three months. I have no savings—I’ve not have savings in years. It’s taken working two jobs to pull in more income than I spend. I have a house I love, but never spend any time in it.  

You guys, the truth is, there never was a plan. I thought there was, but that’s what plans are: a fuzzy, vaporous fantasy in your head. There’s only the now. If I can't make writing my thing, now, while working two jobs, it's not going to happen. Something will always come up. Life will happen regardless of any plans I make. I need to live in the now. Get back to the WriMoing schedule because, hey, the WriMoing schedule CLEARLY WORKED GANGBUSTERS. Who knows when I'll get it typed up; who fucking cares? I just need the first draft. 

Ugh. I hate to harp on but FUCKING WEBCAMS. Goddamn it, goddamn it!!!!!  Srsly??!!!  

Okay, stopping; I've wasted too much time venting when I could be getting on the writing program, but an update was needed.

I hope everyone else is okay.