Maybe Whining Will Help ...
Invoice from York came the other day. I'm so totally fucked. No. Not true. I know I'll muddle through this somehow--helps to have relatives from whom I can borrow money--but the plans I have are falling through and it's really sort of getting me down. It's one thing to know intellectually how things are working out, and another to see them written in black and red ink.
Still, I'm working not to be upset, not to get whiny (too late!) or anything of the sort. Have to fight off the sections of myself that want to say that everything is just going to fall through, and this schooling I'm taking is pointless anyway, and that everything I'll ever write will be crap and so I shouldn't even bother, and that I'm going to get a horrible disease and crash my new car and eat something that will give me food poisoning and all my hair will fall out and I will die lost in the forest, hungry, unloved and alone.
Yes, it's just one of those days. Thank the lord that I have something fun planned for the weekend.