What it is, y'all? I'm doing all right...striving to preserve my sexy (� Sean "Diddy" Combs), trying to eat right, and keep the pockets filled.

Money...what a wonderful/horrible thing.

So I left this lil' bullshit job I was working, and now I'm trying to really kick this writing shit like dust off the ground, man. But any of you who knows what the monetarily-challenged writer's life is like, it's like...poor. I mean, your girl is too broke to even buy a MetroCard to chill in the Village with other artisses and shit, and I'm hurting, a lot.

So I was in a Craig's List haze, you know, applying to jobs like it was going out of style...and nothing. So on a whim, I apply to friggin' Nordstrom after a mini-shopping blitz (no judging...I'll tell you straight that I'm an idiot), and guess what? I got an interview. Whoo-hoo. And now that it looks like that I may get the job, guess who else calls? Four other places that I applied to...places that upon listening to the little riffs left by these prospective employers on my answering machine has me like, "Eww. Why did I apply there again?" Oh, yes...desperation, how quickly we forget.

So I'm trying to figure out why that shit works that way. It's really annoying, and it's not just with jobs:

• prospective men coming out of hiding once you get with someone
  
• items that you buy full-price, then see it on sale a week later
  

In times of extreme desperation, a lot of people pray. I don't co-sign to that; I think people should pray all the time if you believe in God and His good works, not just when you're in trouble--although that is a good place to start if you haven't already done so. But I'm also a hypocrite...I don't remember the last time I set out a clear space and time for myself to properly big up God. I do, however, say small prayers to myself to calm myself down, express happiness or disgust, etc. But with this money thing I was just on some, "Come on, Allah, it's real serious right now...just give me something that I could remotely excel in and I'll be just fine, but please help my tired behind out, please!" And there the calls went. THANK. YOU. GOD. Coincidence? Nah...I really don't think so.

So, I told my mom (worst. move. ever.) about this, and this heffa (Honor thy mother and...I be trying, son, I really do) just went off on a 20+ minute rant. In short? "PRAYER WORKS!"

Okay, I'm with it. I'm hip, I'm down. But why does it feel like I'm forcing myself to do it, like it's a damn chore or something?

I don't know what to make of myself sometimes.

Whoever has the warmest smile wins!-March 24, 2006

Prayer Works!-February 21, 2006

Life gloss-January 31, 2006

Worn down Ny-Lon-January 29, 2006

The Here and Now-January 21, 2006