Crossing The Rubicon

I got the sudden urge to blog.

Unfortunately, I'm not sure what to say. I'm sure something will come to me.

It's horrible that when I have the most to say, I feel the least inclined towards typing, and when I feel the most inclined, my ideas seem blocked at the edge of my mind, like that name you can't remember on the tip of your tongue.

Oh well, such is the story of my life.

I spent a little bit of today looking at apartments.

Looking for and finding and getting an apartment is easy. Making the money is so much harder. I don't know what I'm going to do for a job. I know that I have tons of qualifications, skills, and work ethic, etc etc, but that doesn't help me if there are no jobs to have.

The parents still haven't told the kids yet.

I wonder when they're going to work up the balls to do it. More and more I'm feeling how tough it's going to be on me to leave these kids. Even now, the youngest is making pacts with me. In the past two minutes we've established he'll be sleeping in my room tonight, and accomplished a buddy hug, a buddy kiss on the cheek, and a pinky swear to be buddies forever; him the main brain behind all these ideals.

God.

And I'm hungry. I really want like, a hamburger or something. Something comforting. Something that won't make me feel ill. Something to take this pit of anxeity, worry, grief and future financial insecurity away from me. Something that won't make me feel like I'm back to basics and desperate and alone and worthless and immature and just too damn young when I pull up my old résumé later tonight.

I wonder why, as I type this, why people actually read this blog. It's more like a whiny diary or journal than a blog. Blogs are supposed to be about something. They're supposed to contain information that helps people, I think. They aren't supposed to be so subjective. An opinion about something worthwhile, not just some sob story about a nineteen year old girl whose life decided to deal her a shitty hand.

The sadistic/masochistic/cynic part of me would like to say that it's because it makes other people realize that their lives are entirely better than mine, and that they read it because it makes them personally feel better.

Then the rational, ego part of me tells me to remember that there actually aren't enough people who actually read this blog to actually make that true.

It also wonders if there are enough people to even make it worthwhile.

Oh well. I need to vent. Especially since we've also become "cuddle buddies" now.

Only for two weeks though.

:-/

I'll have to start a countdown soon, I think.

That's the normal weaning process.

I just wish they could be told soon.