cellini's Diaryland Diary

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Stuck

Fuck. I am flat fucking broke. I have started the process of cashing out my retirement savings account, but that could take up to a week.

We have plenty of meat but aside from that things do not look good. Trish and I are both low on gas. My inspection sticker on my car expired last month. I can't take my laptop to the coffee shop tomorrow to get work done because I literally do not have the $1.90 for a cup of coffee.

It is so difficult to move ahead with any of the work that I need to under these conditions. It feels ridiculous talking to people about TV shows and royalties or trying to schedule events or get fucking anything done when I can't buy even buy a cup of coffee. Everything feels futile and hopeless. I have 2 children and one woman and myself and 3 dogs to provide for at this moment I do not have a dollar to my name.

I wish that things would have worked out with my old career. I really do. As much as I wanted to be a full-time writer, I would not have made this jump if my old job had allowed me to make ends meet. The security of employer-paid health insurance, retirement savings and a salary that actually covers housing and food and gas and clothing and all of the bills. Jesus, how I wish for that.

This morning I sent off some sample work to an editor for some magazine work. I hope that works out, although even that wouldn't likely pay me anything until January.

In the afternoon I got a lot of editing done on the deer book. I might be done with that tomorrow. It could happen. I have desperately got to get that shit out of the way so I can polish up the stuff for the new book and get some fucking advance money for it already.

I'm sick of editing the deer book. I'm sick of looking at it. The editor is just doing her job, but I think she's asking for shit to be done at this point that is not really necessary.

Also I would like a beer. Which I cannot have, since I am, after all, broke.

6:22 p.m. - 2010-11-10

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