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After a week of being absolutely broke, and two weeks of waiting for money that just wasn't coming, I got some help from a friend of mine. I feel odd about accepting money from people; but as another friend pointed out, I shouldn't let my pride kill me.
It's funny how we can easily take so much from our friends; their love, their time, their attention ... the things that mean most and hurt most and feel the most wonderful, yet it is so hard to ask for money, and to accept it when it's offered. It's a pride thing. It's a self-sufficiency thing. It's admitting defeat in a day and age when you're supposed to be able to do it all yourself.
With my ill-gotten gains I got a panzerotti for dinner. First time I've ever had one, truth be told. It's stuffed with mushrooms, green pepper, green olives, and bacon. I don't think I'll be managing to consume it all anytime soon. The bloody thing is huge. How do people manage to eat that much at any given meal?