The delay in insurance isn't that big a deal, really. I'm reasonably healthy for a hugely fat chick, I guess, and I do hate going to doctors when I'm this big. Doctors can be so judgmental about weight, and that's not something I need in my life. I know I'm fat. I know I need to do something about it. I'm working on it, okay?
The job falling through is more of a hit. I should know better than to rely on something that involves so many variables, but I really thought it might be a step in the right direction. I've still been sending out so many resumes, and heard nothing back. It's been a month, and I'm exhausted by the job search. It's always so disheartening.
At least my husband is wonderful and kind and understanding. He's pained to see me so upset, but reassures me that we'll get through all of this. The shocking thing is, I actually believe him.
Life is hard here, harder than it was in Texas. The competition for jobs is so much greater, and I don't have any sort of homefield advantage like I did there. The cost of living is exorbitant (although I am thankfully sheltered from much of that). Everything is faster and bigger and scarier here. And so loud.
I'm just tired of having to give up on things. I've let go of so many of my hopes and dreams along the way. There aren't that many left, but they still seem to be taken from me with disturbing regularity anyway.