It'll all be better soon. Right? Right. Right!

Why yes, my upper back and shoulders ARE seizing up, thank you for asking! How could you tell? The way I keep leaning my head against one shoulder and then the other, wincing in pain, pawing at my shoulders like that's going to help anything? I guess that's a giveaway! Or was it when I shrieked MY BACK HURTS when my husband asked why I was muttering and gasping as I poured coffee? Husbands! They mean well!

Why do my shoulders hurt, you ask? Could it be because I'm owed almost four thousand dollars from a client who has owed me since March? And with the combination of my whopping dentist bills (thanks, cardboard teeth!) and an unexpected contractor visit, we now have no money? And the first preschool payment is due? And last night my husband informed me that WE CAN'T AFFORD PRESCHOOL just as I was attempting to drop off to sleep? And instead of sleeping I stared at the ceiling, clenching my jaw, plotting ways to make lots of money real fast? COULD THAT BE WHY?

No, I'm sure it's something else.

Hey, here's my Wonderland post for this week. Which I wrote at 1 a.m. last night, shortly before heading down to the basement and climbing on Henry's old rocking horse, whispering there must be more money into its fuzzy ears for a few hours. (It didn't work, by the way. Henry's rocking horse is only concerned with how pretty he is, wouldn't give me even a single tip for OTB. Never take advice from D.H. Lawrence. What's that you say? What's a "cautionary tale"? Can't hear you over the whispering house. And the literary references end...now.)

Next week, Henry's in school all day, every day. (Which we can't afford! Ha ha! Ow!) Although I should be working hard, I will more likely be cavorting about town, skipping and singing and making an ass out of myself. I'll probably see this guy doing the same thing. Only I'll be sober.

Okay, less drunk.

Comments

[superblondgirl]

I'm so glad you linked to the pony post, because it made my day.

[All Adither]

This little gem of advice wouldn't make you instantly rich, but it could make you rich in the future: You should write a Nora Ephron-esque book like I Feel Bad About My Neck.

Seriously.

I think you're funnier than her. And I'm not just saying that so you'll link to my blog.

[Lauxa]

What, still no PayPal tip jar? I thought you'd have it up by now for sure... AH HAH! Your email address is linked to PayPal. Let's help solve Finslippy's money troubles so she can focus on crafting more hilarious blog posts!

(I've been hooked ever since the blue icing and effexor withdrawls, you are SO FRIGGIN' FUNNY!)

[Lauxa]

Dangit! Nobody's going to even read my comment over here on the second page. How are your hoards of fans going to send you money? Well, I tried...

[Jen]

Please put up the Paypal donor link. If it makes you uncomfortable to have it year-round, do it at a set time each year (checktember?) And put up a charity donor link the other months. We want to help!

[TC]

Oh, Alice, I have so been there. In fact, in my second incarnation as a freelancer (the first having ended when I thought I would go insane if I didn't get to talk to another living being during daytime hours--clearly, I was not a parent at the time), I decided to go back to an office job on the day when I told my husband we'd need to take out a loan to pay our mortgage that month...DESPITE THE FACT THAT I WAS OWED OVER $12,000 FROM A VARIETY OF CLIENTS, NONE OF WHOM FELT THE NEED TO ACTUALLY PAY ME ON TIME FOR THE WORK THEY INSISTED I DO ON TIME.

Not that I'm still bitter and angry about it or anything.

[Frankie]

Totally with the pay pal idea! I mean, I am poor, too, but I would SO cough up some dollars for you and I would encourage my loyal 2 readers to also come and click!! At least your ads if not your pay pal.

Yes, *all* of them!

[ozma]

Someone said:

"Beans and rice make a complete protein for mere pennies. And then you have hooch money left over."

Ah, it's so sad. I tried this and spent at least $30 on the gas necessary to cook the beans. It took days. DAYS. And I soaked them overnight.

So don't try that. And don't get a hostessing job.

I wouldn't recommend doing what I do: Decide not to think about it. Although this is the American way.

I hope a big ol' wad of cash drops into your lap soon.

[Sheryl]

I'm sorry you're broke. I'm broke too. And also recently had the "We can't afford preschool" talk.

Also, I knew you were quoting The Rocking Horse Winner, because I did it as an oral interpretation for my high school speech team. Why yes, I am a huge dork, thank you for asking.

[Anne]

Auction the pretty rocking horse!

[Jen]

Please do the Paypal donate button. If it bugs you to do it year-round, do it once a year (Checktember?) and then put up a charity button the other months. We want to help!

[Jessica]

The thing that seems to work well with clients who don't pay is sending them a registered letter saying you are turning the matter over to a collections agency.

Good Luck!

[amy]

Darn you, Alice. I read your entry about the pedophile rocking horse and couldn't stop laughing, and now my husband's making fun of me for laughing at my laptop. Thanks a lot.

[=^..^=]

Wow. I feel your pain. Never enough money, patience, or time. Be still and remember that you (not your husband) is in charge of this crazy life. Turn the controls back over to God and you will be surprised how quickly He can make sense of it all for you. Meanwhile, clinch your teeth and do your best - that's all life can ask of you, really.

[NoMasNinos]

Money? What's that? I had a bigger savings when I was in high school. Now, I have nothing. The combination of quitting a new job after every child, and a husband who started a new business has left us broke.

Not to mention that the work world does not like to see gaps in your employment history or that you value your children. Right now, we can't afford our house, the utility bills, the preschool, insurance, and ...I think we still have enough money to eat though. Believe me when I say, I feel the tension as well. If I were any stiffer, I think I'd be dead.