Almost as soon as I finished writing my last post last night, my fantastic new housemate told me that due to being unable to find a job as quickly as she'd hoped, she's decided to move out!
She's moving back to Melbourne for a few weeks, and is hoping to come back here in mid-January. If I haven't found a housemate by then, I've told her she's more than welcome to come back and live here, if she wants to. She said she'd like that.
So yeah... right when I really needed the steadying influence of some regular income from my housemate's weekly rent etc - she's moving out! Bugger it!
There's no negatives or anything like that. Her job hunting here just didn't work out for her, unfortunately.
One of the upswings of this (and Matt's financial fleecing of Julian and I at this most unfortunate time, basically), sees most of my plans for next year disappear down the toilet. I was hoping to have the relative minor financial freedom to be able to continue working from home and writing a book specifically for my boys. I was planning a short trip to Greece with my brother - a once in a lifetime thing for the both of us.
Now those just won't be going ahead at this stage. Yeah - seriously, I'm broke.
Matt just does not understand, but I have virtually sent myself broke trying to get this band up-and-running this year. I've used a whole huge slab of my savings to get this thing up-and-running, and his defection on us is really one of the worst things he could have done to us, especially right now. All these gigs we were getting were meant to help supplement my income, but yeah... until we start gigging again (which, in reality, probably won't be long, but due to changes in the economic climate gigs are gonna be much harder to come across), I'm simply not going to have the creative freedom I've had in the past 2 or 3 years.
My total income last year was less that $12,000. I did an audit of what I've personally spent on this band last year (capital expense as well as time), and it came to $7,000... you do the maths.
Thanks, Matt. Thanks. a. lot.
Just when I was starting to feel as though I could trust people again. My best mate (at the moment) goes and stabs me in the back, basically. 18 months of trying to positively build into his life he considers worthless, obviously. Fuck. Fuck.
I don't live a luxurious lifestyle or have expensive tastes, I really don't.
But the upswing is that I'll probably have to sell my beloved little boat, just so I can eat next year.
I'm not being a drama-llama here. Just practically realistic.
Oh fuck. Just when everything seemed to be going so well too. Oh... shit.
Merry Xmas, Mr Mal.
Peas be with ewe
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