I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being poor, of being fat, of being unhappy, of being so careful around food.
I can count calories all I want, but that won't pay my electric bill.
I read a blog about someone sipping their coffee in the morning and planning their day. Fuck them.
I get up at 4:30 in the morning. I spend forever in the bathroom because my digestive system is messed up from Lap-Band surgeries. Now that fall is here, I walk my dogs in the dark. It's scary. I rush around trying to get everything done I need before it's time to take my daughter to school. She can't ride the bus because the driver is racist.
I'm tired of trying to figure out how to pay for food AND the electric bill, how to have enough gas for work.
My children in college tell me they need money, even though I made it clear they would be on their own. So now I'm supposed to feel guilty for being poor.
My husband is getting laid off again. But he still has the nerve to say, "I miss having bacon on Sundays." Does he know how much bacon costs? Doesn't he think that if we could afford meat I would buy fucking meat?
My mother has been paying us $130 a month to live in her RV on our property. But she has decided to move, so that money's gone.
We have an underwater mortgage we can't afford on our trailer.
I hate my life. What difference does it make what I'm eating? Sometimes and early grave can be a girl's best option.
I think I'm done here. No one reads these things anyway.