I am a single woman, quiet and sometimes unfriendly. I was raised to rely on no one but myself, but at times I am unreliable. I have been living on borrowed money and time for six years. I am now at a crossroads: I will either completely deteriorate or I will get this out of my system somehow. I generally perform well under pressure, but I have run out of steam.
You could call me a professional job-hunter– after all, I’ve spent more of my adult life looking for a job than actually working. If I could provide a reason for this, I would. Perhaps one will become obvious as this blog progresses.
On the rare occasion that I’ve been able to seek gainful employment, I have flubbed my way through it like I’m trying to walk underwater. I have felt uncomfortable in every position I have held since 2004. I get unbearably restless, and the restlessness turns to resentment and then to anger. It is as though my brain rebels against me in a job because it’s not my natural state. I’m meant to struggle, flounder, gasp for air and get rejection after rejection after rejection.
Although this has been going on for quite some time, I have more recently experienced some of the more shameful consequences of poverty. Several minor nuisances have escalated into life-altering crises simply because I do not have the resources to solve simple problems. If an average middle-class person loses keys or a cell phone, it’s annoying and may cause problems for a day or two. For those who live in poverty (or close to it), an incident like that can turn into a full-on catastrophe.
This isn’t something I realized when I actually had money. This isn’t even something I realized when I was living on credit cards. I never thought I would be in this position. Poverty has taught me a lot about the world and about myself, which is another reason for this blog. I hope that others can find some information and learn from my experiences. My primary goal for the time being is to make a safety net for myself. I am no longer comfortable with fumbling.