After arranging for my parents to stay later to take care of the little berry, pumping milk in the morning so they can feed her, and spending $40 calling cabs to and fro the place; I was told they pay $8 for a 800-word article.
I know I committed it into the hands of the Lord before I went, but I can’t help feeling deflated.
Why is it so hard to find part time work so that I can be there more for the little berry? Why can’t I watch my daughter grow up?
Why was I so insistent on co-paying for this house and shackle myself with all these loans?