(And, really, if that no-diaper thing was so great, how come for THOUSANDS OF YEARS, parents have been sticking things on baby butts to keep the output contained? Hmm??)

I have the same comment about "childbirth isn't supposed to hurt".

I just brought our cat home from boarding. He is stalking around the house yowling loudly. I DIDN'T LIKE IT THERE. AT ALL. LET ME IN. LET ME OUT. LET ME IN.

Everything that's wrong with me is my own fault, anyway.

Well, yeah, 'cuz you're human. Perfection would be dull as fucking ditchwater. You already have a perfect ass, love, and a prettyboy fucktoy. This is more than many of us can boast.

I totally sympathise on the financial nightmare thing, because me and financially stability = not mixy things. Cool that you've got catfood, so that's one less thing to worry about. Right, let's look at the other things - there's the flat being messy (which is going to feed into your state of mind and help you feel hopeless about the other messy bits of your life, er, unless you're nothing at all like me, in which case forget I said that); there's the allergy thing; there's the uncertainty about the new kitty; there's the overdraft thing.

Don't fret about trying to fix yourself. You're good. You're cool. You're stylish. You're sexy. You're very fucking clever. You're not ever going to be Accountant Girl, from the sounds of it, but that's not a bad thing. The shitty things that are all in-your-face-ish right now are fixable. Is the rent okay? Do you have foreseeable sources of income/immediate bill issues?

Fay is wise. Erin, stuff happens, and none of what you are dealing with right now means that you are a bad person in any way. I hope things begin to improve soon.

I am a month behind on rent. I have income for the next week, and hopefully my temp place will have a new assignment starting next Monday for me.

I am out of cigarettes. I just had a sobbing fit in the ladies room because the binding machine wouldn't work right. I look like fucking shit now, and I think I may throw up at any minute.

And I am going to stop writing now, because I am sick of the sound of my own sniveling.

Erin, you aren't sniveling. These are not easy things to deal with. How long 'til you can leave wherever you are?

5 o clock. Then I have to run my time sheet to the agency before 5:30.

And I AM sniveling. I wish I had some concealer.

{{{Erin}}}

I am looking into an area rug. Just have to fit it in the finances. I even have it picked out. [link]

[link]

Or that one.

I, too, want an area rug. And I think, even with the boost in $$ that the teaching job will allow me, I cam going to stay in my apartment another couple of years, so I should paint.

Okay, the rent thing's not ideal but it's bloody difficult for the landlord to do a damn thing about it, so it's not an immediate sword of Damocles. The income next week is good. The likely temp work is good. If they don't have anything for you on Monday, dress up smart and go and sit there with them, and make use of whatever cross training stuff they've got, so that they'll send you straight out the door as soon as something comes in. (Been a recruitment consultant. It'll work.)

Is there anyone you can go and visit with after work? (Preferably someone who smokes?!!?) You sound sorely in need of some TLC, babe. All this crap is fucking with your head, which is totally understandable. You need a bit of space so you can figure out where you can go from here and how you can start to make changes to get you to where you want to be. And you can.

Fuck, I sound like some stupid bloody fortune cookie. I want to slap me.

But, look, important bit is - I believe in you. You're a good person, you're talented, you're clever, you're sexy, you're funny. And you have an ass that other asses would kill to resemble. (And I'm not going to follow that particular line of thought, for it leads to shows like When Asses Attack!) You're going to get through this.

Jesus. I wish I could give you a fucking cigarette, woman. Stupid geography.