That crushing moment when you’ve just picked up another handful of projects for the kids that will take a lot out of you but make their lives better, are tired but feeling good about the day, go to the bank with that envelope from your employer to take care of the bills,
and the cost of rent+utilities is more than the paycheck you’ve got in your hands.
I’m slowly eating through the reserves that were supposed to be the first-and-last for an apartment wherever I can find a full-time job.
And no matter how many things I’m juggling that are making a difference, or how many people comment on what a good thing we’re doing for the kids, it still makes me feel a little like less of a person, for some reason.
Money may not measure you as a human being, but everything around you measures in money.
This post will likely self-destruct when I come to my senses.
