The jeep seems to have developed a transmission problem; I can only put it into first or second gear by violent brute force. I don’t think we can afford to repair or replace it. I keep getting more bills for my pre-birth hospital stays, and my post-birth emergency room visit. Amazon stock is dropping catastrophically (which was how I was planning on paying for some of my hospital bills if Pirates didn’t hand out money hats).
I feel a lot like I did back when we first moved to Seattle and had awful money problems and a lot of raw loneliness. The raw loneliness isn’t a problem this time, and this one tiny guy provides a bright spot (albeit one that casts a deep dark shadow of OMG Must Take Care Of Him), but there aren’t as clear-cut solutions this time, and the mortgages are a giant terrifying pit.
I’m working on the fiction. I haven’t done anything I’m proud of yet, but I’ve got enough going on in various projects that I feel like I’m working at a real job, in a satisfying way.
There’s a limit to how much time I can spend brooding while Robin is foaming like Niagara Falls beside me.