The hole was hungry, and I was the food. There was no way out. Everything that I tried failed. Resources where withering away. Appointments were rescheduled. Merchandise sold but the funds were on hold. People wanted to book for their events but had to review sponsorship. Waxing and the cleaning lady were canceled. Suddenly, food became an alarming issue along with gas. Bills fell to the wayside. At least the mortgage was paid. There was nothing else for me to do.
Under normal circumstances, a grown woman in such a dire situation would reach out to her significant other or even her family for assistance. There is not a significant other, and my mother chooses to look down at me as a peasant. The women on Biscayne Blvd and 70th street came to mind. While trying to remain calm, I knew that there had to be people that I knew that would object to such thinking. I reached out to them. Cash App dinged within seconds.
This is called survival mode. As each passing minute slides by, I have to figure out how to take care of all of my responsibilities. It can be a rather overwhelming situation which can leave a girl feeling hopeless and completely alone. Fortunately for me, there are a trusted few that refuse to let me hit rock bottom without a pillow. All I have to do is have enough food and gas until next week Thursday. I can do this.