Broke As A Bad Joke

Risky Business has fallen on some hard times since she had to leave her residency program. She is living with her parents, and money has gotten pretty tight. That's okay because she has come up with a no-fail financial plan: donating plasma. I am so jealous! If it weren't for the medication that I am on, I would be at the donation center now! 

Most people think that being broke is just being broke; a period of time when a person has to deal with strained resources and/or little to no money. However, the average person may not be broke enough to know that there are levels to brokeness. There is the general not having money and waiting on money to come in level, and there is the level where you have to get really creative, really quickly, or you are going to cross over into a dire situation. This is where a lot of people land in brokeness. Then, of course, there are those who have absolutely no loot to fall back on, their plans didn't work out, and they end up being homeless. That is when a broke person officially crosses over to being poor. Poor is hard. Really hard. 

So, like most women out in the world today who need dough, Risky is getting creative, and I admire her giddy-up. Other friends are offering freelance services, driving for ride shares, pawning their goods, or relying on a boyfriend. Some have resorted to stripping, OnlyFans, or some other pay-for-play service. Again, I salute these people! I have nothing to offer for quick cash, which may be the root of my real problems in real life. I would start a lemonade stand, but lemons have gotten pricey. 

Late last year, I was on a call with many of my old college friends. It was a call solidifying the committee for our reunion year. Part of the discussion was about our class gift and what our fundraising goal was going to be. Someone on the call suggested that there were some of us who could afford to donate $24K. I put myself on mute and laughed. Twenty-four thousand American dollars?! If I had that kind of money, I would withdraw half of it and roll around in it on my bedroom floor naked. Then I would begin to pay off my bills, starting with the ones that used the most threatening language in their letters. 24K. Get out of here! 

Coffee often says that I can work hard or find a man who does. Sadly, I don't think that is my lot in life. I think I am totally a plasma type of girl. However, we discussed that isn't an option for me. Are people willing to pay money for other people's failed dreams or bad jokes?

Level 0

My girl Roma was updating me about her life, and she said that she talks to our mutual friend, Jamaica, on a regular basis. This made my eyebrow raise, seeing that I am hard pressed to get Jamaica on the phone, and further satisfied a suspicion that I had that she has been avoiding me.
I think it best that I remind you all, before I go on, that I have a habit of taking clues that may not exist to solve issues that aren't real. I make things up in my head and run with them, especially in regards to my friends, because I am insecure, especially when it comes to my friendships. I know, I know, it's not an attractive quality.
One of my insecurities stems from not being where I want to be financially in life. Friends like Roma and Jamaica are stacking paper over my head by leaps and bounds. When I heard that Roma and Jamaica were in touch, I assumed that this is why. As silly as it may sound, you get hip to the way that people view you, for real, when you are broke, especially as broke as me.
People do not take brokeness well. They treat it sort of like a deadly flu they can catch from something as small as just hearing about your financial issues. There are also sub-issues that travel with brokeness, such as sadness, depression, anger, and self-pity. Low and behold, I suffer from ALL of these illnesses! Understandably, this makes me self-conscious, especially when interacting with my richy rich friends.
If you have lived a somewhat full life with females as friends, you should know by now that there are levels to friendships. I fear that for some, including Jamaica, that know what I have been through, I have plummeted to level 0. And I get it, like attracts like. I have always said that if I ever lose weight that I will dump my old, supportive friends that love me for superficial ones.
I digress.
As my friend talked, I used my Ghost Writer skills to put together a quick case. There could be a number of reasons that I have not heard from Jamaica. She has a high-pressure job; she could be busy. She has just moved; she may be tired. This made me feel better until I remembered that Roma had just told me that she and Jamaica talk all the time.
Before you ask yes, I am aware of how childish this is. There is no real proof, other than my emotions, that any of this is real. But to be honest, I have been waiting on Jamaica to friend dump me for some time. Brokeness is also the trigger for strife and negativeness. These are things that I suffer from that we ALL know are contagious.
As Roma spoke, I kicked myself for being so needy and emo. But, as needy and as emo as I often am, I am also often right. Call me psychic.

Outfielders

A friend of mine called me the other night to let me know that she'd gotten a new job...that she couldn't tell me about. And not because it was some top-secret government position, but because she was ashamed of it. The job had nothing to do with her field and was not associated in any way with what she studied in college.
"Are you serious?" I asked her. And she was, because she didn't tell me what her new job is. All I know is that it is legal and that she isn't stripping or working in fast food.
Needless to say, I thought that her attitude towards her new gig was ridiculous. As long as she was getting a paycheck, who cared, right? WRONG! I ran into a childhood friend on the way home from work the other night and asked her what she is doing now. She said that she is working at Phillip's Arena, the arena where the Atlanta Hawks play. Man, she looked humiliated, like she had just told me her deepest, most embarrassing secret.
That night, I sat and thought about her and my other "secret job" having friend. What was up with people being ashamed of getting paid? I asked myself. But then I had to kick myself off of my soap box and remember that, just three years ago, I was willing to go homeless before I got a job outside of my field. Even sitting on top of a mountain of bills and eviction notices, I just couldn't go put in an application at Wendy's. No really, my feet would not move! I literally could not do it! The way I saw it, I had not paid my dues at a job that sucked out all of my positive energy, nor had my mom gone into Parent Plus Loan debt on my behalf for me to just end up giving out samples at the mall.
So, here is the lesson that I am learning that I would like to share with my fellow "outfielders", or those of us working outside of our chosen fields: not every job has to be permanent. Don't allow your in-between time gigs to define you. If I hadn't had been so proud, I could still be living comfortably in my shithole townhouse with money I could have earned as a CVS cashier. But I'm not, now knowing that a dollar is more important than my ego.
I know, I know, easier said than done. But just be warned, depending on how long you can go without quality food, you may be getting a "just for now" gig sooner than you think. It's okay. You are not alone. I know that this harsh truth is disappointing, but it is not the end of the world. Keep your head up outfielder! Fingers crossed, there is a less demeaning job around the corner.

The Terrible 29s 7: Destitution Discomfort

Yesterday was a tramatic day. 

I had an allergic reaction to my lunch which was horrifying! I'd never had one before, and I found myself with burning lips, scratching at my neck. 

Luckily, one of my friends was able to bring me some medicine or I would have had to go to the ER. My uninsured friends know how hellacious that is. Naturally, I invited her upstairs to my room to hang out and she was like, "It's hot in here!" And I explained to her that I NEVER turn on my air conditioning, relying solely on Dollar Store box fans. The last time I turned on my air for an hour I was charged like $300. And then she gave me a look. 

I'd made that look only once before myself when a man I was dating told me he didn't think that Storm was worthy of being an X-Man. It's a look of confusion, shock, and awe. What really hurt me was the hint of disgust in her face which read, "Bitch, what are you a peasant?! How broke are you really?! I could never live like this!"

I have reached a new level of broke: the stage where you are snubbed by life long friends! I am so broke I am actually making folks uncomfortable!

She stayed in my room all of five minutes and then ran out of here so fast there were sparks flying off her custom edition Nikes. It was like she was afraid that the humbleness of my apartment was going to grab her by the ankles and pull her through the carpet into a lower income bracket. 

I would tell her she hurt me, but why? It is hot in my apartment and I do wish I could turn on my air. It is what it is. #brokegirlproblems

The Terrible 29s 5: Can You Pay My Bills?

Once upon a time, I was a college student, working towards my degree so that I could be an independent woman because BEYONCE told me I should be. How I looked down on those girls who treated college like one big date night. Fast forward 8 years and I fall asleep with my power bill stuck to my face. Who knew tears could be an adhesive?  I AM SO BROKE? WHY AM I SO BROKE?!

Today, most of those date girls are married with kids, enjoying the spoils of being a stay at home mom. Meanwhile, I just bought a roll of toilet paper with pennies from the bottom of my purse. How could I have been so stupid, questioning the formula that had worked throughout the ages, just so I could say I was independent? My mouth waters thinking of how I could have an all-expense paid life- a life free of coupons and leftovers. I have tried taking care of myself and I am woman enough to admit that I have failed. I am now ready for a man that has been socialized to take care of a woman to come in and clean up this mess! From my mouth to God’s ears.

In the meanwhile, how much do you think I can get for pawning my degree?  
                                        

Surprise!

The best meaning most horrible thing about being broke is surprise expenses.
Yesterday morning while watching the James Franco parody of that horrible Kanye video, my Internet went out. I thought it was because of the rain, but after the longest call to customer service ever, it was discovered that I need a new modem.
"I've only had this one four years!" I cried.
"Really? They usually only last two," I was informed.
It costs $200 to replace, to be spread across my bill in "ten easy payments."
Easy?
My grocery budget for the month is less than that! If only I could eat my Internet.
Now I have to step into 2013 and do all my business via iPhone, which is a task for a woman who has avoided wearing her glasses for the past 15 years.
Eye roll.

Sincerly, Financially Distressed

I am going out of town.
I have to pay the power bill and for my Internet.
I literally had to rebudget my budget to be able to afford some Dove (I know I could get cheaper soap, but Dove makes my skin feel all babyish).
Yet, I find, that I have gotten to the point that I am like F it, I'm broke, I'm tired, and I want to spend money that I don't have on a half of a gallon of ice cream, so whatever.
I mean, if I become any more stressed over money than I already am, I swear to God, I will friggin' hurl, I'm not joking! The least I can have, to get me through this dollarless limbo, is some ice cream. I feel like that is only fair.

Contractions

Why is it that whenever I balance my checkbook I have labor pains?
I just did my daily Chase.com/ checkbook check, and I have to say, the sad end result brought me to my knees. Thinking about how I am going to travel for my job, eat, and live off of these pennies gave me cramps that radiated from my gut down to my jay-jay. If I did not know better, I would have thought that I was having a baby!
At that point, I just had to put my wallet back in my purse before I hurled and kicked my purse to the side. I can not wait until I get old, only because I am assuming that old age comes with financial security.

Mixed Priorities

Yesterday, my mom picked me up to take me to an event for my job. I was super happy to see her because she brought me food and I am broke, lol. Any way, I get into the car and she shows me that she has gotten a new phone that was $79 bucks!
It took everything in me not to drop my mouth opens. Recently, she was approved for some government assistant which my family desperately needed. My mom has been unable to find work for the past two years. So she was approved for a stipend, but it is VERY little. I feel like she could have done so may wiser things with the dough, like get my siblings some new clothes or something.
But shockingly enough, that is not what really bothered me. My brother is in college and he was not approved for work-study. He can not find a job. She could be sending him cash, seeing that all last year I sent him $100 a month! On top of that, I am literally living hand to mouth with NO disposable income at all. The week before I get paid, I munch on Ramen Noodles and water, yet I still manage to pay my brother's cell phone bill. I decided that that is a bill that I am going to send her way seeing that she has the dough and I am strugglin'.
Looking at her new, shiny phone, I couldn't believe my eyes. But I didn't say anything. She just brought me food after all and was doing me a favor by dropping me off. I have to find the right time to tell her. Sigh, I know that she is going to make a scene. I just don't think this is fair.

Labor Pains

Tomorrow is Labor Day and my auntie called to tell me that my uncle is cooking out.
Sigh.
Truth is, I am broke and hungry, so my face will definitely be in the place. But as I have expressed before, I have always felt like my family doesn't really like me. This was proven by the Uncle Asshole incident and countless of other occasions where it has been made clear that my extended family just rather not have me around.
We will see how tomorrow goes. My uncle drinks like a fish, so everything should be cool until he gets too-too wasted. I will let you know how it goes.

Bad Morning

I can already tell that today is going to be a bad day because my morning is NOT getting off to a good start.
I woke up to discover that since I deposited my check yesterday, I won't be able to have access to my funds until Tuesday morning, after the holiday. Thus, I can not pay my rent...or my phone bill...or buy food! So on this Sunday, which I had previously planned to be AWESOME, I will just be sitting here in my room broke and hungry and come tomorrow, without phone service.
I called my bank and found out the bank has signed me up for overdraft protection, which I told them I didn't want. I know the game- find a way to charge me outrageous fees. The telephone banker tried to convince me that I could make purchases, even though I don't have any cash. Sounded weird to me. I felt like I was getting played, which also ruined my mood.
It isn't even 8:30AM and my mood has already gone south. To try to cheer myself up, I am watching Alfred Hitchcock Presents on Hulu, but I have to say, I don't see this morning turning around, not unless I open the door to find a stack of hundreds.

Will Work for Work

Today, after being driven to a state of hopelessness over finding a second job, I began to email my cover letter and resume to different companies in the Atlanta area that I would like to work at. Seriously, I just Googled and emailed, Googled and emailed. I HOPE that one of the companies takes pity on my desperateness and at least calls me in for an interview. If not, I will have to start getting people fired on purpose then applying for their jobs. Hey, by any means necessary.

Words From Haynes

Since my grandma has Alzheimer's and this past month has been really trying, I had to call the next best next thing...my bestest homie Haynes. She has an old spirit and a way of making things seem like they aren't so bad.
So I told her everything, and her primary piece of advice was to not think of anything that is going on in my life right now as permanent; that I can get out of my situation. This was good to hear, seeing that for the past three years I have been in a rut. Well, a cross between a rut and quicksand. So, seeing that I am now living on my own with little to no money, I have to try to grudge the bottom of my gut to find the drive I had when I first graduated to either find an additional good job or go to grad school. Thinking about it makes me want to crawl under the bed and cry, but seeing myself as 30 in this same stink makes me want to die. I guess you have to choose the lesser of the two evils.

Sincerly, Financially Frantic

Today I bought a new computer.
My last computer, an EMachine I got last year from HHGregg (which for some reason I am quite spiritually connected to) went black on me. Apparently, according to a really cute Geek Squad worker, my backlight went out. So I would need to replace my whole screen, which would be about as much as a cheap computer. Of course, this would happen very close to my payday, so I had to do some SERIOUS juggling just to purchase a $325 Toshiba the size of a dinner table!
$ 325. That doesn't sound like a lot, but it is for a girl who is paid with magic beans, that is paying off student loans, and has financial obligations out the wazoo. It might as well have been $1000!
On top of the computer, I had to buy that anti-virus crap. I couldn't afford a warranty. Couldn't afford the Microsoft Home and Office 2010. I am just beside myself.
It is days like this that I do wish that I was skinny so I could just go to a club, do a couple of lap dances, and come home with a couple of stacks.
I was just telling my girl Dorthy how I used to be a major snob. When I worked in fast food when I was in high school, strippers and hoes and all other types of questionable women would come in late and get chicken, and I used to be like, "Ew gross! Don't they have any dignity?" Now I see that they had dignity, they just had bills. Money is money!
The best bet for a chub like me is a sponsor, some old dude on the verge of death with fat wallets and a fatty fetish. If your father or grandfather fits this description, please send him my way. Nothing nasty, promise, I just need my phone bill paid.

Fear and Loafing in L.A.

This is a festive tale about a chubby girl who decided to go to L.A. with thirty-two dollars for a weekend to go to the BET Awards.
Well, luckily my first hotel had free breakfast. I would take that food to my room to also have for lunch, so that way I only had to buy dinner. Luckily, there was a Taco Bell and a McDonald's right next door.
I had no rental car which is fine, because I can not drive. So I had to take the gross, gross, gross, and dirty Los Angeles transit to the Shrine Auditorium to pick up my credentials and to attend the awards. Man, I thought I had seen some harsh neighborhoods in the past. People were living in some of the worst shit holes I had ever seen. I spent the rides with my head down, listening to my fellow riders curse out their boyfriends on the phone and talk about how easy it is to the rob the grocery store.
So I'd calculated the bus rides would cost 10 dollars. However, after the show, I looked in my wallet to see that I was fifty cents short to get back. So I had to ask what I was pretty sure was a pimp for some change. He gave me thirty-five cents. Then, when I transferred buses, a kind spirited drunk who had the must of ten men and beaded chin hair gave me fifteen cents so that I could get back to the hotel.
The next day, as I shared with you, the plane engine blew up, so the airline put me up at the Westin that almost would not let me check in because I did not have a credit card they could hold for incidentals. Once I checked in, I went to McDonald's and overdrafted my account just to get a McChicken and fries for dinner.
Living meal to meal was kind of fun this weekend, but I never ever want to try it again in L.A.