$8 for four days of food

Okay, so I got my refund from Netflix, and I now have $8 to feed myself for four days.  The classic 5 dollar week is a dozen eggs, a gallon of milk, and a loaf of bread.  A gallon of milk is $2.50, a loaf of bread is $1, and a dozen eggs is $1.50.  Not enough for three meals a day for a week, but definately good enough for breakfast and lunch.  Two eggs a day for six days, skip breakfast on the 6th day, plenty of toast and milk.  It's not a bad way to eat.  You'd think I'd loose some weight at some point, but nah.  So for eight dollars I get the bread, milk and eggs, and then I have an extra three dollars left.  With that, I could get a jar of peanut butter which is surprisingly high in calories or a box of ramen, but UGH!  Maybe some mac and cheese.  As far as produce goes, I may be able to get some potatoes and an onion to add baked potatoes to my list of things that I can make or maybe I could skip the bread and eggs and think of making a good soup that'll last me a few days.  I made split pea last time and it was okay and really cheap, though I'd have to invest $3 or so into ham pieces.  Same with potato soup. What else could I make that's incredibly cheap?  I just looked up "ultra cheap meals" and came up with some ideas.  Maybe a good cream of mushroom or cream of broccoli soup.  Hmm, that sounds good.  For $3, I could make a soup, easy.  Well, we'll see what I come up with.

Fucking Oregon Lottery!

I hate it, every time I sit down in front of one of those machines I will spend every cent that I have to my name in hope of hitting a big jackpot and when I do, I spend the jackpot before I walk away.  I'm such a piece of shit.  This time, I sacrificed my food money and so I have a half a loaf of bread, nine eggs, and three top ramens to last me to payday.  Wow.  So I'm really feeling like shit right now.  I've given up so much for so little.  There's nothing in return.  A feeling of excitement, of maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.  I want to be a better person, but it seems like I'm getting further and further away from the good person that I once was.  Maybe there was a time when I could have pulled my self out of the gambling cycle, but those days are long passed.  So I sit here and I wait for my next paycheck when I will spend the bare minimum on bills then go sit in a bar for an hour and put bill after bill into the machine hoping to find happiness in money and flashing lights.  I remember when I would go to the bars to sing and get drunk, sure I'd drop a hundred bucks in a night for liquor, maybe black out and make an ass out of myself, but at least then I had the good pure fun of being on stage and being the center of attention for a good reason for at least a few minutes.  What do I get now?  To be that guy in the corner getting sadder and sadder as my money gets lower and lower.  There's not a lot in life that's worse then the feeling of your last dollar in the machine.  You know you've spent more than you should, you know what waits you when it's gone.  No food, no extra money, minimal cigarettes, and still you hope beyond reason that the next hand of video poker will strike it rich.  You swear to yourself again that you'll walk away if only you can get it back up to $20, and you actually believe it.  Then that last quarter.  You pray to a god that will not listen to please let it be a winner.  Then it's gone.  You're alone.  Nobody cares that you've there once again.  It's done.  Who knows, maybe next week I won't put any money into a poker machine . . . yeah right.

Just saw my friend come online who I haven't seen in months, years? I don't even want to say hi, what do I have to say to him?  Look at me, I'm STILL unemployed, I'm still perpetually single, I've lost my car, there's nothing good to say about me.  I'm a complete and total looser, I have no right to exist.  I'll leech off the government as long as I can and then see what happens I guess.

Okay, so failure again.  What's new?  Oh well, at least it was fun . . . now I'm awaiting certified letter from the IRS . . . Yay.  Still, life could be a lot worse. Don't you think?

Okay, I'm still alive.  Last night, laying in bed, I had kind of a morbid vision.  Well maybe not a vision, maybe a pre-dream.  Anyway, I was laying on this knitted blanket that I use in lieu of a bottom sheet, and I was saw my grandma on her death bed.  She's not dead yet, nor is she dying, well she's old, but not dying in any immediate way.  So she was on a hospital bed and the family was gathered around her, and everyone was getting to say their goodbyes, and I thought, what will I say?  What can you say?  So here I am, 9 days into the new year and 10 days clean (again) and I'm contemplating death.  Well trying not to, and not too deep.  I still have the original agreement with myself not to think about death until I'm thirty.  Of course thirty is barely 3 years away.  So yeah, I'm still alive for now.