Don't get me wrong. I love my counselor. She's been a very good friend of mine for years, and I always leave her office feeling just a little bit better about myself, maybe even hopeful. That's a pretty good thing. I could use a little hope in my life.
I can't even sell my plasma for extra money. I'm an insulin-pump diabetic. They won't take it. Something to do with messing up my blood sugar levels and causing health problems. Whatever. I could really use that extra $50.
There is no magic solution to these issues. I know that. My counselor is probably going to look at the little budget I worked up and ask, "Now, what can you do without?" At the moment, my answer would be TV, phone, internet, heat, electricity, water, food, and medications. Basically, I surrender.
I've been banging my head against the wall for weeks, trying to figure out another way to bring in some extra income. I haven't come up with any legal options. I could go all Breaking Bad and start cooking meth.
However, Saint Marty hated chemistry in high school.
|This would not be a good look for me|