Nero.
It’s raining outside – delicious, insistent autumn rain, splooshing in pavement puddles and gurgling down broken drainpipes. Miserable day, people say, and it’s delicious.
money
Counting blessings
I’m back at work.
Well, I’m back working. A few months. Blessed income, blessed progress, blessed not sitting at home bored or – worse – sinking into myself. And it’s a job I’ve done before, in a place I’ve worked before, and it’s a nice place and nice people and it’s no stress, no stress at all. Collect papers, sit. Punch numbers into database. File papers. Repeat.
Plastic tokens of no regard
There is a pernicious thought I have.
Credit card statement lands – I’m nearly maxed out. Maybe time I stop putting things on credit, but I’ve no income.
I think about the debt I’m in – been plunged into in the space of six months. Fucking bipolar. Fucking illness. Fucking me. Continue reading
Explosions in Slow Motion 