It is indeed getting dark.
Things are horribly desperate here.
There's no money to be had. Dad tries and tries but he can't find another job. The odd jobs he picks up are barely enough to cover the bills and groceries. There's no food in the cabinets, and no heat. My parents are writing hot checks for groceries. I skip breakfast and have some toast for lunch, and then a small dinner. I don't eat much as it is. I cook a pan of rice for the cats and dog, because it's more than I can bear to see them looking at me, hungry. The house is still in shambles from the flood. The contractor that was my dad's boss up and left things as they were -- no proper ceiling or flooring in the kitchen, the walls made up of odd scraps and materials. The windows are broken. The wiring is still faulty, too. You can see the bare insulation in the walls -- what's left -- from daddy's boss ripping the walls apart to put new panels in. Then he left, so our house is much worse than it was. It was awful before the flood, and now it's . . worse than you can imagine, I'm sure.

I'm trying to find a job but again, there are no jobs. I've applied to thirteen places in the last three weeks without so much as a phone call. In my little town, thirteen places is pretty much the entire business district. I've applied at McDonald's, a daycare or two, a hotel, various stores and restaurants, everywhere. There are no jobs in surrounding towns, either. I've applied everywhere I can think of. I even briefly considered prostitution but that isn't an option.

I want to go stay at my grandma's but I don't want to abandon my parents. I keep things together here. Someone has to clean, after all, and take care of the animals. I should really find homes for them, since I can't promise them food for a certainty. I always find something for them but I feel like a terrible pet owner. I love them so much and it would be the best thing for them to have new homes, but . . Just thinking about it makes me cry almost.

I am bitterly tired of being poor.