Mermaid mad

I've been working on my original novel, and as such, have gone mermaid mad. I'm drawing heaps of them, and well - it's fun! :) I've been listening to Smoke City's Underwater Love, which is like, THE THEME of my story. :) I always imagine Miriam's feet walking in the sand, and then a flash to waves, and surfer boys leaping into them, and then her feet again, then up her legs as she's walking down the beach, introducing her slowly... She's like a mermaid herself, with pale skin and dark dark hair (imagine Anna Paquin), and there's flashes of the kiosk selling hot chips and ice creams, and people on the beach, and then the breeze whipping the dunes... :) yeah. That's my story. *hugs it*

Here's some pencil sketches I've done:

http://img4.photobucket.com/albums/0803/nacey/fineart/merpodraw.jpg -- A mermaid pod.

http://img4.photobucket.com/albums/0803/nacey/fineart/merrowraw.jpg -- A deep sea mermaid that lives on the Abyssal Plains. Very scary looking, rather savage but noble in their own way. Coastal mermaids and Abyssal mermaids never meet. Probably a good thing too!

http://img4.photobucket.com/albums/0803/nacey/fineart/mersailorraw.jpg -- A marooned sailor encounters a mermaid

http://img4.photobucket.com/albums/0803/nacey/fineart/mermaidsmirk.jpg -- A cheeky looking mermaid!

*stress*

In the past few days things have rushed up at me. There are things that bother me that there are no easy answers to, things that bother me that make my head hurt.

I'm 25 this year. 25. I'm going to be thirty so very soon. What have I got to show for myself? What? Not enough. My friends have long-time partners, university degrees, good jobs, their own places, their own lives. I still live with my parents. I still share a room with my sister. I'm still painfully single and very inexperienced.

My so-called manager has turned out to be a lying cheating fraud, and I'm back to square one. Music is my life and while I've got some great recordings, I don't know WHAT to do with them.

And I'm so very poor. Everything I use, everything I have - the internet, computers. It's Mum's, not mine. The only thing here that IS mine is the drawing pad and the headphones. Oh, and the huge pile of action figures sitting on top of the fucking monitor.

I'm so tired of never having enough money. I'm so tired of never having the right clothes to wear. I'm so fucking tired of not being able to DO things with people because I haven't two gold coins to rub together. The idea of having a spare hundred bucks to waste on a weekend is SO very foreign to me. To me, fifty bucks is a LOT OF MONEY.

I can't find a job. I keep applying, and I keep not hearing back from people. I'd do a course, but I'm not eligible for help from the government. I'm living off the bones of my fucking ARSE and I'm not eligible for financial help. They're idiots. Don't they know that I will NOT GET WORK without a good computer course? I need administration skills and databasing and coding. I'm just - I'm always behind the fucking eight-ball.

I'm tired of my opportunities collapsing under me, yet I'm too stubborn to give up and cry. There's just no time for that anymore.

Tomorrow will come and go and before I know it, I might be too old to get married, too old to be a singer/songwriter girl, too old to be anything but a woman living at home with her mother, a snarky old prune like Marge's sisters from the Simpsons.