Sometimes Life is too Hard

Don't read this.

All in a few days:

My poverty is increasing, so I am forced to rent out rooms in my house for a few weeks again. Thinking to save some money and maybe, maybe go to BGG.con. Instead, in one week I get bills for the year's car insurance, and I have to contribute to fixing the roof of the apartment building. Nothing left, and I'm still losing the equivalent of 1/2 my salary every month spending more than I earn (and I don't spend much).

Yesterday I stopped on the side of the road, dashed into a store and asked if they had mushroom bourekas (they didn't) and dashed back out. 250 NIS parking ticket in 35 seconds (think the equivalent of $500 to you in America). Today I come back to scratches on the hood. Last week I paid a half month's salary to fix the A/C which should have been fixed last time and the fender which was broken by a hit and run taxi a few weeks ago. The police are unhelpful.

Last week, my father had his colon removed; they found cancer anyway, so they need to do chemo. My grandfather died of the same thing when he was 55. In a strange coincidence, an acquaintance in our neighborhood and good friend of our friends was diagnosed with the same thing two weeks ago and died Sunday night.

Today my son ... I don't want to go into it, because he reads this, but my son was acting unacceptably and breaking my heart in the process.

My wife leaves for Canada with my other son for a month - I can't afford vacations for myself anymore, and I so desperately need one. My good friends are moving to Dallas for a year.

My country is still at war. The whole world is still at war. The idiots are leading the hateful.

There's more, but I have to stop. Blurry eyes.

Jon