I'm in a tiny hotel room in Paris. Crying. My plan to move to France, find a flatmate in Paris, find a job and live the good life is looking like pure madness right now.
I realised a few minutes ago that if I accept the most promising flatmate proposition I will have three months to find a job. If I don't I will have nothing. Nothing left. No money, most of my stuff in storage in Sydney. Nothing. More than 10 years in the workforce and I've got 3 months of life left.
I've been stone cold broke before, but that was only after a year in the workforce and most of my time spent in education. But now, 10 years of earning later, it's almost all gone. What was I thinking I could move cities/countries/language?
I'm going to end up on the streets. This is how it happens. You believe the hype that you should change your life if things aren't making you happen. I had a dream, I decided to follow it, but by all accounts it's madness.
Hopefully reaching rock bottom (again) will aid my writing.
Edit: It ain't helping my speeling! That should be happy, not happen!
