Hello world.  Well it's been about five days since I went into negative land on my bank account.  Just an FYI--that's a LONG time to go without money, especially when you consider the incidentals like gas and food.  Yikes.  I put seven dollars of quarters into my car for gas and used the rest of my change (taken out of my son's piggy bank--sorry honey) for some basics--bread, eggs, peanut butter.  So at least I do have food. It's not appealing to me in the least, but hey, beggars can't be choosers, right?

I'm not going to dwell on my spectacular fall from successful internet millionaire.  If I do, and god knows, I've done it enough, I feel like I can't breathe, like I'm drowning in dirt.  Dirty black dirt.  And while I struggle, my abusive, cheating ex and his new wife are flying high.  Now I really can't breathe.

I stare at myself in the mirror and repeat over and over: It will be ok, it will be ok.  You're gonna survive this, kid.  And I will.  I've survive worse.  Survived when my ex put his hands around my throat and squeezed.  Survive, survive, survive.  It's better than the alternative.

Overdraft, yeah that's me

Years from now, when I'm famous and rich and fabulous and RICH, I want to be able to remember the oh so fun feeling of seeing negative numbers on my bank account statement.  I want to remember the feeling of knowing that I have not one dollar to buy groceries or gas or prescriptions until my next paycheck, one week away.  Cuz that's where I am today.  Seven days to go on no money.  I should have enough gas in the car to make it to work and back next week.  Thank god for the old prius.  Buying that car five years seems too be the only good decision made in a long line of bad ones.  Decision making FAIL.

Anyway I'm assessing my food options.  I have two eggs left, bread, peanut butter, some crackers...It's going to be interesting.  Maybe I'll finally lose those last 10 pounds?  The bright spot is that at least my son is on vacation with his dad all next week.  Though he was thrilled with "breakfast for dinner" the other night, I'm outta pancake mix, and at some point, I'd need to get a vegetable in him.

Man, this sucks.  I know that I'm not alone, that I'm part of a brand new social class of people one paycheck away from disaster.  Doesn't make it any easier to swallow, especially considering that I was once on top of the world.  But then again, I guess I'm not alone there either.