Always applying for contract writing and editing projects, part-time office work, copywriting and editing positions in and outside of the city. Getting almost nowhere this week. I almost had a meltdown when my dad said to me "I think you should apply to get on welfare."

You want to believe that your family will be able to support you in harder financial times. You want to believe that there is someone to catch you when you fall. They can afford to give me some money here and there for groceries, but I cannot expect much more than that. I have the sporadic income from the freelance writing gig and the students I'm tutoring. I also have a landscape design client I'm designing for this weekend, which I'm excited about. But if I do not make enough money in the coming weeks, my car is at risk of being re-possessed. I'm at risk of having to file for bankruptcy because I can't afford my student loan payments. Convenient that my sister is a bankruptcy attorney. I'm almost at risk, if I don't earn enough money, to move back in with my parents and force my housemate to live with a stranger. I feel horrible that my financial situation is affecting her.

The whole situation makes me sick. I have a college degree, a master's degree, years of work experience. I'm an intelligent, creative, and hard working person; I rationalize that I should be able to support myself. Part of the reason I was so upset when I learned that my position was being cut at the company was exactly this reality. I envisioned it long before it came down to this and shifted the picture to a positive and happy ending in my mind, seeing myself as a successful freelancer working from my home office or perhaps at a company again as their copywriter. I envision the possibilities, the potential, the richness.

Submitting an application for welfare assistance and food stamps royally depressed me last night. Such a radical extreme from sending those cover letters for cushy editorial jobs I had worked on earlier in the day. I never thought I would have to be on welfare. I never thought my family would allow me to reach that point. My dad even lectured me on selling my honda civic, only 2 1/2 years away from being completely mine. I refuse to give up just yet. It has only been a little over 3 weeks since I've been out of work. I'm choosing to be optimistic. This rough patch is only temporary. I just wish I could find a great job, be o.k., and get on with life. Why must it be so f*cking difficult?

I'm leery of people who say that your outer reality is a reflection of your inner thoughts. As if I wanted this to happen to me? As if I'm not doing everything in my power to survive? How can they say that I brought this situation about? It really ticks me off when hard times are chalked up to the person consciously or unconsciously attracting them into their life. There are millions of people living in poverty around the world. Don't tell me that it's all their fault. Same with those who are caught living in war zones. The world is a combination of goodness and injustice.