I think I've reached my limit.
I'm going to implode.
This can't possibly be safe for those around me....
My mothers being evicted.
In all sincerity it's L's fault. But I shan't dare bring it up to him in justification for my wiry schedule... Oh no!!
Sooo, I've got to help her move. And I've got to get my stuff In storage.
And it seems like I don't have the money nor the time, nor the patience, nor the mental capacity for any of those things.
I haven't been good with deadlines and appointments. And scheduling. I'm too stressed. My mind can't concentrate on one thing in particular. So it just shuts down.
An in turn makes me even more stressed.
Sigh. I start work next week. Still missing documentation. Can't find my damn high school diploma.
Now the daycare is telling me that my daughter can't be there as long as I've had here there as of recent.
I really need things to calm down. I need stability or I'm gonna pop a screw...
Now NY state tax revenue wants me to pay $641 by Friday... Like WTF??!!
They must be smoking crack.
As well. L is stressing me out. I can't pinpoint how exactly. Probably because he's just being himself and not being very emotionally helpful. Maybe I'm not being emotionally helpful either. Although I doubt that.
Then... My living situation has become its own warp of stress.
I'm going to break.... ...
At the moment I'm rushing to pick up my daughter. I'm running late. They charge a $1 per minute that your late.
Then I've got to come back to continue helping my mother move.
The Marshall comes tomorrow...
There's a boat load of other stressors.
Like my $560 something phone bill.
Or my $141 storage bill.
Both due on the 10th.
Or the fact that I'm already broke beyond belief.
And my daughter still had needs.
And I don't have food stamps.
I hope I end up in the Bronx like right now....
Hmm, not happening I guess.
I'm exhausted from being so stressed. And because I don't get much sleep.
Hopefully by the end of this week all will be well. I fucking hope because if not.... I don't know what'll happen.
I'm tired. I wanna just check out and slowly disintegrate in front of a tv show on Netflix. But I've got responsibilities.
I'm an adult.
Trying to obtain my independence. And now it just seems like I'm only asserting my failure. If I didn't care as much, in probably wouldn't be as stressed I think.
Too bad that just isn't me.