December 30th, 2007

beauty walks on a razor's edge

(no subject)

Today is apparently not my day.

The cat threw up on my duvet about ten minutes ago. So I went to get a clean one from the cupboard, during the course of which I managed in quick succession to smack my shoulder on something, skin my thumb on the edge of a shelf, then clock myself in the face with the metal hooked stick used to pull down the loft hatch.

Ow.
tear of the sun

(no subject)

So, the freaking out about earnings. It has two sources, really. One is that I want to get a flat and live on my own and I'm just not sure I can afford to at that rate.

The other, as usual, is my mother. She wants to know what I'm earning and how much I still owe on my student loan so she and Dad can figure out how much to take as my "rent". And something she may not say this time when I tell her - because she knows I'm not earning much - but has said before is "You should be earning at least £20K at your age and experience".

She's quite right, in fact. That's a reasonable wage for me to expect.

But the brain takes her quite reasonable and accurate statement and hears "You're a failure in life. You're 26 and a half and earning only a little over half what you should be. You haven't amounted to anything and you disappoint me."

So. Freakout ensues.
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    scared