Exhaustion

Oh god, I'm so tired.

I'm sat in the staff canteen at 5:45am, nursing a cup of watery tea, about to start my shift at my minimum wage job sweeping floors in a factory.

Last night had me running like a crazy person, after I barely had time for a shower before I was out and running across town, to meetups and gigs, leaving gigs early to get home for some semblance of sleep before getting up at stupid o'clock.

I'm so tired but there's no escape. Working six days a week here doesn't quite cover costs. I keep a wee callendar in my notebook, marking off each day, how much I've nominally earned, and what that pays for.

• 15 days pays rent
• 4.5 days pays debt interest
• 1 day pays Blackberry bill
• 2 days pays car insurance
• 1.5 days pays bus fares
• 1 day pays petrol
• 2 days pays for socialising
• 2 days pays for food

By this time I've run out of days to work. There's no time to pay off debts.

We can clearly see that my rent is far too much, I need to move to somewhere cheaper. I could sell the car. That would save me three days's work and the lump some would pay off something. But I spent years paying off that car and without it, the whole concept of travelling and freedom is limited. Hours waiting at bus stops, planning journeys, missing trains.

Am I being snobbish? Precious? Maybe. This is all difficult, painful, draining, desperate.

I'm so tired.