As usual, I meant to write sooner. However, it’s always the same old story: I’ve been way too busy and tired lately. I’m also feeling slightly depressed.

April is almost over…and I haven’t got a new, more stable job with a more stable (and hopefully higher) income. I know I still keep my Saturday teaching job and some freelance writing gigs from that local company, but they’re not enough. I need to stay where I am now. I need my personal space for my sanity and creativity. That doesn’t mean that I don’t love my family…

Alright, I know I keep on saying that like I need a confirmation. I think I’ll just stop now.

I’d been sick for a week since my last singing audition on Sunday. I was glad and sort of relieved that Sobri (one of my journalist friends from The Writers’ Club) had gone there too to watch me perform. It went okay, I suppose. I didn’t win anything, though, but I ended up getting invited to their singing club for a regular jamming session every Tuesday night.

Then I returned home (to my family this time, who live nearby from the audition place) with a migraine. I’d spent half of Monday in bed, blacking out again and again. The kids were lovely, though. Gyan-ku and Gira-ku (my little nephew and niece) wouldn’t stop hugging and kissing me.

After that, I went back to my rented room that night. I accompanied Hazel Eyes to deposit for the rented house he wants to move into soon on Tuesday. I covered news as a blogger on Wednesday morning. I went to The Writers’ Club Gathering on Thursday night as usual.

I’ve decided to withdraw some money from my insurance fund for a temporary safety net, at least until I can get back on my feet again. I’ll still leave some in it, though. I have to, for my sake mostly.

And I still need to revise my novel,  help Hazel Eyes to start moving into the new house (though still not fully-paid yet), find a way to solve my family’s ongoing bills (the major division issue that I don’t feel like talking about these days, but still have to deal with anyway!), and…

I know, I know. I bet you’re wondering: “When does she get her break?”

            Good question. Even if I fall sick and I am in need of a decent break in bed, some people still knock on my door / buzz me / text me, asking me if they can borrow some money from me and when – or I should say, how soon – I can send / give it to them.

Story of my life these days, people. S.S.D.D. Welcome to this part of my world. Any suggestions to help me to numb these sad feelings (so I won’t sound too much like a major complainer / a cry-baby / a whiny bitch, since I’ve mostly been denied of my rights to express my own real feelings openly to the people who are supposed to love and accept me unconditionally) would be very much welcomed.



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