Monday Update and Fast Forward on 2011 Plans

I said I'd get back later, and here I am.

I called the cops on RM1 last night. There has been something building here (with a minor) and while I could ignore it and stay where I am until the end of the lease, I couldn't have ignored it. I'd rather be the bitch that called the cops then the blind fool who let some guy do stuff he shouldn't have. I'd rather be wrong (or too early) calling the cops, then right and ignoring it.

What that means, though, is that I now have a *very* uncomfortable living situation. Even if RM1 doesn't know who made the call yet, he will eventually figure it out. So I'm gone from here at the end of the year.

What that means in real words is that I need to figure out what I'm doing next year- and *next month* now.

I still have really no idea. I can probably sell about 1/2 my crap for cash, and that's something. I can build my internet stuff as fast as possible. I can write articles as fast as I know how.

I still need to know where I'll be on January 5. Where I'm going from there. When I'm moving on, and what I'm doing next year.

My options have been:

1. Go to Mexico, write, maybe teach english.
2. Hike from Georgia to Maine.

The first would mean (probably) leaching off someone for about a month. The second can't really start until the middle of March at the earliest. Which means 2 months or more staying with family. Not cool.

Well, it *could* start earlier, but difficulty, danger, and expense all go up if I start before the middle of March. Everything with that hike gets easier the closer to April I start. I can start earlier by starting farther south, and working my way up to the "official" starting point, but that also adds cost.

Up-front costs for the two are about the same, with hiking being (maybe) a bit cheaper. Family is *probably* a little more comfortable with the idea of me in the US. But there's no real way to earn money actively while hiking, so any money I need I'll either have to already have, or have some way of earning without direct work.

What it really comes down to is that I have one month (instead of two) to build a $500 a month income stream, *and* to earn enough cash to move/ buy what I need. Which is pretty crazy. All while avoiding RM1 and his mother.

I can haz stress?

Work and Work

I do two kinds of work. One *can* pay crap, and is part of a kinda floaty long term plan. The other *only* pays crap and is over in January.

Yesterday I was supposed to do the first type. I had it all planned out- after 8 or so hours of goofing off and relaxing, I was going to do this work that'll pay off later.

Then I made the mistake of answering the phone.

I guess it's been too long since I worked in a "real" outside the house job. This time last year I knew better than to answer the phone on my "day off". Yesterday, though? Ha.

So I went to the place where I'm working temporarily and stayed there from 4 until 11. That whole time I stood at a register, then tidied the store. While my check will be kinda nicer, it means I didn't get to do any of the things I needed/ planned to yesterday. Things like:

• write articles for up-front pay
• write articles for my own sites
• write articles for places that do revenue share like HubPages
• Do laundry
• get my food made up for this week
• relax
• catch up on NaNoWriMo
• get some work done on my blog that *really really* needs to be done
• buy groceries

Instead all I did was earn $42, give or take $3. I'd have been much better off, crazy as it sounds, staying home. Now I have to find some way to fit all that stuff that I didn't do yesterday into a schedule that's already taking over my life. Oh, and I need to cancel an appointment, because "work" can't/ won't reschedule me around it. Even though they knew about it *at the interview.*

Soooo not interested in this work thing. really, Not. Oh, yeah, and being around all those strange people and little screaming kids, I'm getting a cold. Extra Pleh.

Writing

This is kinda embarrassing, so I'm just gonna type it.

I wrote and turned in my first (cheap) article in about a month last night.

Which is crazy. I've accepted dozens, but when I actually have to write them, I freak out and stop. I just stop.

I won't say I "can't" do it, because I obviously have before. I just go totally blank, clueless, and the words dry up. I can think them. I can write most of the thing out in my head. Getting it into the computer, though?

Ha.

But I did one, and it made the second a bit easier. Now hopefully I can write more today without having to fight over it with myself.

I still think Santa should bring me a non-dysfunctional brain for winter holiday. Or, you know, a big pile of money.

Or both.

Ok, going to try another (short, easy, crappy) article. 'Cause, you know, I'm kinda fond of this whole living inside, eating thing. And eventually Dad's going to stop loaning me rent and food money.

Interesting Problem

So, I need proof of income. I don't have a "job", so I don't have paystubs. I don't make what I did last year, so a copy of my tax return isn't going to work (duh). I quit my job rather than getting laid off or downsized, or whatever random wording they're using this week, so no unemployment benefits or record.

I guess I could print out the last month of my bank records, but the only real money in there came from my father. With a print out of my last month's paypal, that might work, right? I just need something. Blargh.

Proving you have income is easier- if you have a bank account, you just show them that shiny balance, or the line with the deposits, or whatever. I'll have to wait until next January for 1099's, and I think that might be a bit too late. Yargh. broke-ness. Sometimes a job would be easier, just not by enough to make up for the pleh-ness.

Depression Means Small Paycheck

So, the more depressed I get (and I'm sure this is common) the less I actually do. Either because I have no motivation, or I'm sure anything I do will suck.

I'm pretty sure I've dropped into a rather low low, since I haven't managed to write anything but blog posts for close to a week now. And the blog posts themselves were a near thing. With a normal job, that wouldn't be so bad. the little bit of work would be masked by the huge amount of goofing off most people manage as part of their daily work schedule.

Unfortunately, my income is totally based on how many words I crank out each day. No words means no dollars, and 500 words (more than I've done in *days*) means 2 gallons of gas. I could, in a normal month, maybe swing a couple days without real production, but this month? Not so much.

I try to keep from thinking about the bills while I write- it just stops me, makes me nervous, and slows me down. But it's still important. This month I have to pay car insurance again. I have to start paying one of my student loans. I have to start getting stuff together for my "great escape." And, of course, I have to pay the rent.

None of that is going to happen at a rate of $5 a week.

So today I need to center my brain, find a "happy" place, and get some damned work done.

Stupid brain. I'm tempted to hand it over to the first hungry zombie that wanders by.

Do More Things that Make You Happy, not Less

Common sense, right?

I've been in a bit of a mood, I guess you'd call it, lately. Trapped, lost, stuck, failing, old, wasted, basically depressed.

It's a good thing my family doesn't read this, actually....

Anyway, I'm not doing things that I know make me happy. Or if not happy, at least better. Things like flying down twisty roads in the dark at two or three times the speed limit. Or sitting on boulders hanging off the side of a mountain and watching the sea in the distance. Or riding roller coasters, or travelling, or even just laying on the beach at night by myself.

All of those are things that make me feel good. I haven't done any of them in years. No wonder I feel trapped.

I spend a lot of time trying to get other people to see that they've done something cool, or that they could catch some dream. I don't know if I don't think I deserve my dreams, or I just think they're too tough, but I spend no time at all talking myself into succeeding.

I realised it yesterday, actually. I was telling a friend that he'd had his writing accepted for pay. He's a professional writer now- he wrote for money. I still don't think of myself that way. I'm not even a "fake" writer, I just don't count it at all. Which is funny, since everything's been accepted so far with no revisions.

So I need to start doing things that make me happy. And I need to earn money. And I need to plan my life so I'm happy. Dave Ramsey might be all about the debt payoff, and that's great.

But I'm not a "get married, have kids, buy house, work, die" kinda girl. If that were my only set of options I'd move die up the list- a lot. So putting off having a life isn't for me. I've been doing it for years now, and I just get more miserable and convinced of my suckyness.

So that's what I'm gonna do- after I create $20 from nothing today, I'm going to make a list of stuff that makes me happy. And I'm going to start working on actually doing some of it. Because I want to be the confident, happy chick strangers see.

I am a Big Hairy Wimp

True story-

I once had a chance to do something so cool, and amazing, and pretty much totally dream fulfilling, but I messed it up. I actually had a couple chances like that. And each time I forked it up. Not because I couldn't do it- whatever it was- but because I didn't even really try.

See, I'm convinced that even if I did try, I'd fail. Spectacularly, with pointing and laughing and humiliation. So one by one I've cut myself off from my dreams. All because I'm scared.

Scared I've picked the wrong career, scared I'm not smart enough to compete, scared I'll change my mind in ten weeks or months or years and have wasted all that time. Heck, I'm scared people will realize what a wimp I am, all shattered and lost. I'm even afraid to get in a relationship because I know that in 6 months or a year I'm going to be moving on and I don't think anyone could care enough for me to tag along.

So it should come as no real surprise that I'm afraid to write a simple little 200 word fluff piece. It's all that stands between me and work that, while not my dream, I wouldn't mind. Work that could pay my bills, if I did enough of it. 200 piddly words that probably won't even be read by more than one or two people.

All while I drop my big dark secrets all over the internet where anyone could find them.

There's a part of my brain that works right. It tells me I'm smart, and capable, and that I can write, or science, or travel, or love. It even tells me I need to gain a couple pounds, but that I look damned good anyway.

The rest of my brain, though? It's all about terror. I'm too fat, or too thin. I'll be blind before I figure out what I want. I only think I'm smart enough to write or succeed at school, I'm really near illiterate and unable to do even the simplest of things. I'm worthless, and someone is going to figure it out. I don't like that part of my brain.

The only time the bad brain isn't in control is when I've had a drink, or I'm running a fever, or it's been so long since I've slept that the tv talks back to me. Of course, sleep is tough to avoid, I hate being sick, and I'm more afraid of becoming an alcoholic than I am of being a big scared failure.

Is it any shock that the bad part of my brain shouts louder? Even knowing I should ignore it... it's still damned loud.

I just wish I could shut it off long enough to write that first piece.

The Idea of Nothing

I just had to turn down the chance to make $20. If my sister doesn't take it, I'm not sure what my dad's going to do, but it was an interesting conversation. It went something like this

Him: Want to make a quick 20 bucks running me around so I don't have to call a taxi?

Me: (silence)

H: Unless you have an interview, or something

M: No, just trying to figure out if I have enough gas to get over there.

H: Don't you have some cash lying around?

M: No...

H: What about your Credit Cards? You must have some money on one of them.

M: No, nothing available on my credit cards. I put a gallon in last week, and I'm trying to remember how far I've driven. I *might* have enough, but I don't want to get most of the way over there and run out.

H:No, that would be bad. You're sure you don't have any money? I guess I can call your sister and ask her then.

Gee, thanks. And to make it even better, about a minute after I get off the phone with him, I have my weekly chat with my buddies from Amex. They want to know if I can pay them my whole past due amount, since I've been with them ten or more eyars now with payments "like clockwork" and all. They'll even offer me this great hardship rate (which they may or may not be required to do by law), but I have to come up with a couple hundred dollars. Is there anyone I can borrow it from?

Um, hello? If I had anyone willing to lend me a couple hundred dollars I'd finish paying May's rent, put gas in my tank, and get $5 worth of fresh veggies. We still had the chat for a couple or 20 minutes. Fun fun.

Wonder what Visa thinks? I should probably take a call from them. You know, before they firebomb my rat trap car.

I really hope the G. money comes in soon. I'll use $20 for gas, soda, and veggies, instead of saving it for some un-named other online expense.

I still don't think my father quite understands what I mean when I say I have no money at all, though. I suspect he thinks i'm ducking driving him around. which is funny, because if I had enough gas to get the 26 or so miles to his place, I'd be on my way there, rather than writing this post.

Fork.

Oh, and speaking of this post, sorry it's late- I over slept, then had some drama.

Deposit on my Last House is Gone

or: why do landlords feel a need to keep the deposit when you're moving out of state.

Previous landlord finally sent a letter with a list of what he took out of the deposit to my former roommate- I still haven't heard from him. Given that we moved out at the end of january, and it was the 22 of april before she got the letter, I'm not sure what he was up to.

Honestly, a bunch of his "charges" are BS, and a lot of what he's calling damage was normal wear and tear- much of it left by the people before us. Realistically, though, it would cost more to go back out there and fight him over the money than either of us is likely to see from it.

i don't know that i'll get the deposit back from the place I'm in now, either, and it's not even in an habitable state. The kitchen floor is just about ready to fall in, the table is on the spongiest part, and the pier holding the house off the ground is the high point in the floor. If I wanted to i could probably get out of the lease, but I don't know what I'd do instead right now.

In other news, I did not win the lottery and still don't have a job. On a more positive note, If I can get my loans in deferral, and simply kill my credit by not paying my credit cards for a while, I only need to make about 500 a month to stay indoors, fed, and with car insurance and all the comforts of rat shack- I mean home.

I'm slightly disturbed that that's my positive news, but well, sometimes ya just gotta take what you can get.

Broke

I am broke. Not broken, not really. Just broke. Playing with numbers, I've no idea how I'm going to make my bills this month. Great. No idea when I'm going to get a job. No idea what I'll be making, or how short it will leave me.

In interesting news, my father offered to "invest" in an online venture with me- one where I do all the work and he provides the (seriously minimal) startup funds. And all he wants in exchange? 40% of gross.

Now, 40% of nothing isn't much. But this is a *good* subject, with enough interest that with even sad traffic he'd make back his "investment" in a year to a year and a half.

I don't know. I wouldn't want to do business with anyone without some kind of binding contract, written with real live paper, signed with ink (blood's icky). Business with family has a lot more opportunities to go bad. From his POV, of course, it's great- less than 3 hours income in exchange for either 40% before expenses, or the opportunity to say "I told you so". Win all around.

For me, not so much. I could come up with the money myself, and wait to put up a better designed site later. I could sell plasma until I had enough to do the site right from the start. I could (and need to, actually) subcontract through the 3 hotels in town that allow pets to do dogwalking, and have the money in a week or so. Then I do all the work, get to keep all the money, and avoid potential icky family drama.

I just don't know.

schedules, bills, interviews, and terror

First off- I'm going to try to get on some sort of actual schedule here. Unless I'm sick, dead, or have said differently I'll work on posting consistently Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, before 9am on the east coast of the US (-5 GMT, I think).

I'll update my debt bars in by Monday the 15th, and my savings bars as well, since there's been a bit of change in there. Namely my E-fund is just about gone, and my cc's might be going up in the next couple days.

Interviews- I've had one. For a minimum wage job. If I don't hear from them by Monday on a "working interview" I should assume they're not interested. Which I read as they're not interested now, and just don't want to say it while I'm standing there.

Which brings me to terror.

I have about $70 cash, $50 of it off in ING land, where I can't get to it right now. There are only a couple of places hiring, even servers. But Charleston is very competitive for server jobs, there are lots of career waiters.

So right now I have no job, no idea when I'll get one, and no money. Oh, and I live in a rodent and insect infested dump with a pair of super slobs. The only thing I have anywhere on the horizon is the (faint) possibility of a job that will pay half my bills, if I'm careful. I'm beginning to think I should have just emptied my accounts when I got my tax return and hopped a bus someplace cheap.

Basically, if I don't have a server job by Wednesday, and I'm not earning money by Friday, I won't have to worry about my crap living situation, because I'll be getting kicked out at the end of the month.

Sometimes jumping really sucks.

Car hunt saga of doooooom!

I moved back to South Carolina at the beginning of February. I haven't had a car since before I went NZ in Feb. of 2006.

So here I am, 3 miles from the nearest bus stop, in a "city" with rather questionable public transportation to begin with. And no car.

Since I got here I've been looking. Before I got here I was looking. Heck, even in Wyoming I was looking, and people only sell rotten old farm trucks there. No car. Found a couple possibles, but they didn't work out. One needed more work than the car was worth, most in my price range lately don't have engines, and a lot of people don't answer e-mail, pick up phone msg's, or know how to pull sold cars from the craig's list listings.

And then there is today. Today there was a perfect car. $700 1990 Volvo. Nothing hugely wrong with it except that it's at the absolute other end of town. Over where my father lives, specifically. So I called the guy, and said I'd have my father call, since he was over there, figuring he might be able to beat the others to the seller's house and get the car.

The car I need to get a job, pay my bills, and continue eating and living indoors.

Called my dad, told him about the car, asked if he could check it out. Implied, but obiously didn't state clearly enough that this was my best chance, and that he'd have to do it right away- like right after getting off the phone with me. I guess I forgot who I called.

Called dad at 3:45, maybe 4 o'clock. Don't hear back, don't hear back, wonder what's happening, finally, he calls back. When he called the guy someone else was test-driving the car, but if they don't buy it, he'll call back. But it's been like half an hour, says my dad, and he hasn't called back yet.

Guess the importance of calling the guy right away wasn't emphasized enough during my original call. So no car, no job, and, at this point, rapidly approaching no hope. Does the military take clinically depressed asthmatics?

At least I know why cars are so freaking over priced right now. I guess during "tax refund" season prices go up.

I'm almost tempted to cut my "dear Santa" list down to just a car. I'm sure I don't really need $85million, Vin Diesel, a dog, and a full staff to care for me... No, I just need a car. Maybe if I'm good santa will bring me one for February 20th-mas. Alternately, I could always buy a powerball ticket. The odds are looking better for that right now.

Pleh. Stupid cars.

on the up-side, Dad actually called the guy. I think.

-j.