I fucking hate being broke. I’m not talking about “I can’t afford this new suit! I’M SO BROKE!” broke, I’m talking about “I don’t know how I’m going to eat for the next five days” broke. On the one hand, I suppose it could be worse- I’m not homeless, after all. On the other hand…I CAN’T AFFORD THIS NEW SUIT.

Being broke is shitty for so many reasons. Hitting up bars is out, obviously, but even drinking alone puts a squeeze on the old purse strings. Plus, drinking alone is depressing for a multitude of reasons (I’ll get into that later.) Even the most mundane purchases put knots in my stomach, to the point where I have a mini panic attack. Getting a new MetroCard? KNOTS. Paying my gas bill? KNOTS. Buying groceries? FUCK ME MURDERSMURDERSMURDERS.

The worst part about being broke is the feeling that, despite your best efforts, it will never get better. After a while, being broke goes from a temporary condition to feeling like a permanent state of being- you come to think that all you’ll ever be is some poor schlub without a penny to his name. Even worse, you kinda start thinking you deserve it. “If I hadn’t bought that pair of shoes/that DVD/that porn site subscription, I wouldn’t be in this mess.” Which is totally fucked. I should be able to purchase all the porn I want! OURS IS A LAND OF FREEDOM AND PROSPERITY.

Exacerbating the whole situation is the fact that I don’t know how to improve my financial standing, so it all starts to get overwhelming at times. Which is why I don’t complain when I have to work on Labor Day, and it’s also why I drink alone.

If you have money, give me some or fuck off. (I don’t mean that. But seriously: gimme.)