This has reached boiling point. In fact, it’s boiled over and has spilled all over my lap and burned me. I have to stop spending now only because I’ve got no money left. And when I think that all the dough I dropped could’ve gone to a photography course or something of use like that, it makes me want to kick myself in the ass.

I can’t even say I’ll never do it again, because I could easily walk out the door tomorrow and there will be a gypsy sitting in my courtyard selling handcrafted finger puppets and I’ll somehow convince myself that I need a set of 10 to stop me from biting my cuticles.

I’ve really dug myself into a ditch this time, and with no work on the horizon I have no idea what will become of me.