On Wednesday, I made a dentist appointment. It sounds like no big deal. A few cavities that need to be filled. But secretly, I'm pertrified. Not of the cavities, of the bill. I've had 2 subbing jobs in January--not good coming off the holidays. One root canal will send me over the brink.
Meanwhile, I joined an online critique group, sent a short story to Ether, and wrote a new chapter of my Coffins story. I've been working hard to get stuff done, given the many goals I set for myself this year. But the biggest thing preying on my mind is the money thing. I don't care about being rich. I just feel like, without money, my life is spinning out of control. Like I can't take care of myself. Ashamed.
It's something I've been struggling with a lot. Live your dream, they say. Find a meaningful career. At this point, I'd settle for a stable income. It's not that I want to give up writing. I can't; I'm addicted to it. I just wish that I knew all my efforts would lead to something. The uncertainty is hardest thing.
Sorry. It's been a rough week. Maybe I'll be in a better mood next week.