Broke to the Bone

People I know have been financially cleaned out recently. What is expectedly the most prosperous month of the year, given that the holidays just passed, has become the ngat-ngat-the-porkchop-bone-till-it's-dry period. I, for one, am flat broke. And I get more agitated knowing that I cannot turn to my usually trusty ATM account for refuge when something important merits spending.

Because it has a whopping 11.70 in it.

Don't ask me where all my money went. I honestly have no idea. I remember bragging blogs ago about my 'katas ng Pasko' being intact. Well, guess what? It miraculously disappeared. I'd have wanted to chase it but, everytime the Sherlock in me attempts, I face a bare wall.

It's the bills. It must have been the bills. It SHOULD have been the bills.

The most rational thing to do was call up all the publications I have written for in the past to pay up. No luck in that department, either. They all had the same response. Your check is currently being processed. What??? I wrote for you 4 months ago! Ah, the perils of the freelancer.

Next, called up, texted, emailed everyone who owes me money. Like my finances, they also have suddenly vanished. As if they sensed me coming, even as the idea was conceived, and gone into hiding one by one. I try not to get angry. Lashing out at somebody who really has no means to pay me back is futile. The best thing to do in this situation is wait until that person gets ahold of some cash and pray that a fraction of that would be set aside for me.

Now, on to other alternatives. There's Animator. He has no qualms about lending me money since I really truly needed it and I wasn't just whining as an excuse to go shopping. But since the network his company provides services for is the god of delayed payments, he is about as broke as I am.

Despite that, he still set aside a part of his money for me. My hero! I hope the network gives what was due them a month ago very very soon. I'd hate to have him munch on 15 peso waffles and work to death without being paid. At least they won a contract for another commercial. Maybe that would pay better than their weekly gig. (But that would also mean he'd be going home less and he'd be more buried in work.)

For now, I would have to live with what I have until the next salary comes or until my so-called friends pay me or until my former clients finish "processing the check".

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Mrs Santos arrives tomorrow.