Money is tight, ya’ll. I was advised to bring a certain amount of spending money to Ireland, and I am not even halfway to that amount. I currently go paycheck to paycheck, despite living a comfy life under the sheltered roof of my parents’ home. WHAT HAVE I BEEN BUYING? Absolutely no idea. I can look at my bank statement all the live long day without ever being able to fully grasp why I can’t maintain an income.

So my sad, sappy tale of what a boring September I must face now takes a serious turn, towards the “instant horror classic” theme of budgeting. I have never done such a thing, always priding myself on my natural ability to not want things, and a few Googlings have yielded scary spreadsheets and gross/net vocabulary. Instead, I’ll just make a goofy little list of modified expenses that occur to me as I bulletpoint.

• Packed lunches, ahoy! I was good about this at the beginning of the summer, coming up with something fairly inventive to bring into work everyday. Then I got my wisdom teeth out and my resolve shattered. Time to get back on the bandwagon. If I don’t bring in a lunch that day? Tough cookies. (That does not translate into “buy cookies.” Unless it’s my period, in which case, I may buy one cookie.)
• Truly analyze clothes. Just because I got two great sweaters yesterday for $15, do I need them? I have no idea, because my clothes are currently in piles on my floor. It’s time to divvy up my wardrobe, determine what I’m actually going to bring over, and if I don’t need anything else, then I won’t buy clothes.
• Just pay the damn wedding money. Stop griping about how you absolutely cannot afford this bridal shower, these shoes, this spa package, oh God when do the fees stop, and just go with it. It’s someone’s special day and what did you expect, this is the one thing you can’t get a discount on.
• (Hey kid, don’t push it if someone offers to pay. Act gracious and accept, ya feel me?)
• Oh, make-up, make-up, make-up. You make things difficult for me. You’re so important to me, but you’re incredibly expensive, and probably the source of my disappearing money. Only refill what I’m truly low on, and fight the urge to buy anything new or pretty. Utilize coupons when necessary.
• Careful with the gasoline. Take the shortest route anywhere, and quit being impatient. Apparently the slower you drive, the less gas you burn. Try it.
• Gift cards, son! You’ve got them to all sorts of places–Michael’s, Regal, Old Navy–use those suckers up! Get creative! You want to decorate your new room? Skip the yarn, scour Domino for ideas, and go MacGyver all over the walls. You want to see “Burn After Reading” without a doubt? You’ve got movie passes.
• Decide on fun activities based on whether they accept student discounts, resident discounts, or really, whether they’re under $20. Avoid going out to eat.

That should do for now. Does anyone have any other suggestions on how to do some last minute saving? …Or will anyone give me a thousand dollars?

“I wasted this entire day.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I woke up wicked early, like 8:30, then sat on my couch I had to come into work. I sat on my couch, ate Fritos and toast, read the Internet, and watched about eight hours of Buffy until 4:30 and went, ‘Oh no! I have to work!’”

“Well did it make you happy?”

“Uh, yes, repeat: I watched TV and ate Fritos.”

“So you didn’t waste your day. You made yourself happy.”

While everyone else ships off to school, I’m staying in town for the next month. Although I keep saying things like, “Yeah, time to start cracking down,” and “It’s go time,” and “Could I be any busier?” I haven’t found it to hold true yet. Today I opened my new suitcase for the first time, looked at the pockets, and then put some clothes in an air compressing bag to see how they would fit. Then I took them out, because hello? I still need clothes. I also still need all of the necessaries I am planning to bring across the pond, which is why after sitting on the floor in the middle of my room for about an hour, I zipped up the empty suitcase and went to look for something to do in town.

I’ve returned to this entry about ten times this weekend trying to complete the thought that I started with: gosh, September is going to be so busy, I’ve just got so much to do and to pack and to buy, however will I find the time to fit it all in?, life is difficult. I suppose the reason I couldn’t complete the thought was because as entry-fattening as that would have sounded, I’ve truly got nothing to do right now. This week marks the last two days of my internship, which will leave me with a normal person’s work schedule, which will taper over the next few weeks as I adjust from coffeework mode to schoolwork mode.

I certainly hope things become a bit more interesting as September progresses, or even that they may become slightly–gulp–difficult? After all, I need fodder for my newspaper column, the first of which is inconveniently due before I even step foot in my new country. I’ll most likely save up all the meaty bits for that rather than post them here, and by meaty bits I’m obviously referring to “Pack Rules: How to Fit Your Favorite Harry Potters in the Front Pocket without Bending the Covers,” “Visa-vis! Where Can a Girl Get a Work Permit around Here?”, and “Area Girl Misses Plane by Watching Too Much Buffy.” Also, for my own sake, something good better take place. There’s ants in my pants.

I want to lead a secret life, but I’m so desperate for approval that I can never keep my secrets very long. And then no one’s ever really impressed by them anyway.

Now we’re talking. It’s taken a while, but I’ve finally graduated to Wordpress and all its customizable glory (after spending heart-pounding hours failing to install it–seriously, you have no idea how many times in the transition I have felt my stomach drop). I can do SO MUCH MORE with this website now. It’s not going to happen tonight, or tomorrow night, or at any foreseeable time, but when it happens? I won’t have to worry about what anyone’s stupid browser says. It looks sick on my iPhone, too.

So poke around, let me know what you think, if anything’s not working, the usual.

UPDATE: Okay, suckers, thanks for taking a week to tell me that you couldn’t comment. There you go, now make me feel better about myself.

After sleeping on the floor of a darkened office for an hour, I staggered out into the main area, blinking and crossing my ankles. One of my editors told me about when she was an intern, on her very first day, she passed out and cracked her skull open against a table. “I was working myself to the bone, in school and planning a trip to Europe, and I was just so nervous and wanting to impress everyone. So we were standing in this big meeting, I was about to be introduced to these important ad executives, and suddenly I just knew… so I left the room, and everyone watched me zigzag down the hallway, and I just went boom.”

Directly, my sudden illness today can be attributed to the stupid awful Vicodin I decided to take that morning, due to the set of stitches that refuses to fall out and won’t stop irritating my gums. I thought it would help me snooze on the train on the way up–I did not consider that it would absolutely wipe me out. I slept on the train. I slept on the T. I grabbed a large coffee and bagel and slept on the bus. I got to my desk and slept at my desk while waiting for it to boot up. I slept between each click, between each checked email. As I scanned the reader mail, I slept, my head nodding like a cartoon’s. I tried eating to make up for the exhaustion, but the smell and taste of the bagel disgusted me and I only ate half. Then my stomach dropped.

There was no work to be done, so I twirled in my chair for a while, trying to catch a cooling breeze through the window to clear my airways and ease my rising heart rate. My mouth tasted disgusting and my stomach churned and churned. I sat on the hamper in the bathroom so that I could shut my eyes without getting caught, but being near the toilet only made me want to empty the bagel. I took a walk to CVS across the street for a pack of gum to ease my stomach, and upon my return, I emailed my mom: “I’m pale and nauseous and shaking and weak and when I was walking, it felt like when you wake up in the middle of the night and try to find your way to the bathroom in the dark.”

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was rocking back and forth in my chair, my hands clamped over my mouth, my eyes shut and refusing to open. Next to me, the three editors were discussing whether “autoimmune” is acceptable as a noun, a conversation that would normally entice me but became absolutely frustrating when no one would notice me. I wanted to ask one of them quietly for a room to lay down instead of making a scene, but it wouldn’t happen. Using the bookcase as a prop, I apologized for interrupting. They rushed me to a couch, fetched me ginger ale, and offered crackers. I felt like a drama queen lying there in the lobby, where everyone coming and going could see me nodding quickly off to sleep. I was moved into an office with blocked off windows and fell asleep on the floor.

When I woke up, they encouraged me to go home, so I raced to the train, making it with three minutes to spare. Sprawled across a three-seater, gasping for air and dry heaving, I thought about what my editor had said about her experience as an intern (before falling asleep for the entire ride). After all, my exhaustion was not due simply to a pill I had taken seven hours before. I still haven’t caught up on my lost sleep from working several absurd shifts (happy vampire friday, ya’ll). This summer itself has been taxing, with days off coming infrequently, long hours at the cafe, long hours commuting, and paychecks not significant enough to make it worth it. When my editor exclaimed, “Sweetie, you look about ready to pass out!” I nearly replied, “It’s a long time coming.”

My internship ends the last week of August, just at the time that everyone else will be heading back to school. I won’t, though; I don’t leave until September 28th (tickets are official). I can make the most of September in two ways, then: use my two newly free weekdays to monopolize the work schedule and make some serious last minute money, or free myself up so that I can relax for once, relax without being on pain medication. On the one hand, I have no money this summer compared to what I made this time, mainly because of emergency purchases. On the other, I’d like to visit my friends at BC, and another friend is returning from Florida that month. I’m not sure which is more important to me right now; I’m not even close to a decision yet. But for sure, at the moment, trembling as I did today, I’m leaning towards the LET ME TAKE A FUCKING BREATH side of the debate.