attempting once more to write in my journal as if I have something to say
and write for myself.  oh wait, that's the problem - I don't have anything
to say for myself anymore.  I don't need to vent.  What's wrong with my
life right now?  I'm fucking poor to a rediculous extrent, and much much
more in debt than I'm comfortable with.  But somehow, as much as there was
reason to write in my journal about emotional angst, there really isn't
anything to say about financial angst.  I owe lots of money, I don't have
it.  My upcoming paychecks are all already spent.  It fucking sucks.
wahoo.  Besides, I already had a bitch session tonight with Christian
about stuff that annoyed me about work and salary and such.