Two years ago I lost my fiance to some two-bit whore he met at a restaurant. We were living together at the time, and he decided to break up with me slowly, first starting with the "we should take a break" speech, then the "we should start seeing other people" speech, and finally "I'm breaking up with you." He was cheating on me with two of my friends most of the time we were together; I don't count it because he had asked and received my permission to screw around with both of them, though one he asked be about after the fact and I didn't find out until later. He justified breaking up with me as "I don't want to use you and walk all over you, and I don't see myself improving any time soon." This story has changed each and every time it's mentioned, by the way. Stupidly, I'm still in love with him, and he is a great guy. He's improved a great deal since I met him--since he broke up with me, even! We're best friends now, and while that relationship is wonderful in and of itself, I want so much more out of it that I know I'm never going to get. So that's the suck.
Anyway, I was living on my own in the one-bedroom apartment we used to share working a shitty job as a customer service agent for a major telephone company. Every day was hell. I was screamed at by people because policies that I have no control over changed, I was called a fucking idiot for doing my job, a worthless cunt for reporting fraud (the guy doing the fraud called me a cunt, not the person I reported it to). The job was very thankless and the highlight of the work day/week/month/year was getting one of those bite-size candy bars tied to a balloon because one person in THOUSANDS decided I did a good job. But hey, I was making $1200 a month, and was managing to live on my own.
A few months ago a friend of mine started having issues at home; she lived with her parents and her parents were deciding to be stupid with their finances. So I offered to let her move in with me. We agreed initially that she would turn my living room into her bedroom, and I'd just confine myself to my bedroom and all would be gravy. So we talked to the rental office at my apartment complex about getting her on my lease, and everything looked like it was going to work out. Then she decided that she "wanted her own space" and demanded that we get a two-bedroom instead of trying the one-bedroom and seeing if we would want to move to a two-bed.
Now, at the shitty-ass job I mentioned before, I'd been having some issues with my health. We were crammed in like fucking sardines, there were no windows on the call floor, the ceiling was low enough that me and my five-feet-one-and-a-half inches could jump and touch the ceiling. People taller than me could just reach up and lay their hand flat against it, and push the ceiling tiles up as well. It didn't help that a majority of the people working there had no personal hygiene to speak of. I was opening the restroom doors with five layers of paper towels between my hand and the handle because I had seen way too many people walk out after taking a massive dump and not washing their hands.
My immune system sucks. It always has. So, because of these conditions, I was getting sick a lot. Like, I'd miss two or three days every two or three weeks. Which, of course, is a huge no-no where this place was involved, because I quickly ran out of paid and unpaid vacation time and they OF COURSE didn't offer sick days. So I wound up taking medicine to try to come in to work instead of having blemishes on my attendance record that I didn't need. The entire site also got bonuses if we hit attendance goals, so that was another reason for me to come in. Well, medicine a) doesn't work on me, and b) does weird shit to my head. So not only was I coming in dripping snot from every orifice imaginable, not only did I have headaches so powerful it hurt to think, but I was also getting the weird-ass side effects. For example, NyQuil gave me the shakes, Ibuprofen knocks me out, et cetera.
Well, a week after moving in with my friend and getting our two-bedroom apartment nice and situated (which was a nightmare in and of itself. The last tenants left it so trashed it took the apartment complex two months to get it fixed up), I lost my job, because the meds I was taking were making me get really shitty quality scores.
I applied for unemployment, and things looked like they were going great until a week or so ago, when I got a letter from the Department of Labor saying that I was denied unemployment because I left my job voluntarily. In reality, I was given the ultimatum to either resign and leave on good terms, or keep letting my quality tank and get fired. Getting fired would have been a blemish on my record I don't need, so I agreed to part ways amiably and signed the resignation form. On that form, in the "why are you resigning?" space, I was told not to put down the real reason why I was quitting, so I put that I was seeking new employment that was better suited to my skill set. Pretty sure that's what got me denied for unemployment right there.
So I have three weeks to find a job and get paid at least $400 in order to make rent, because right now my funds are down to a cool $50. My new roommate, who I agreed to move in with out of the goodness of my heart, has straight up told me that she's not going to be covering my half of anything, claiming that she can't afford it. I was living on the same wages she was for two years, I know damn good and well she can afford to cover for me until I get a job, and she knows I would pay her back as soon as I could. But no, the "friend" I took in to help her get out of a bad situation has decided that I'm not worth helping out, and she's kicking me out of the home I sacrificed to help her out. If my parents aren't willing to take me back in, I'll be couch-surfing until I can find full-time employment at 40 hours a week making at least $10 per hour. Unless, by some miracle, I can manage to get money without a job by doing freelance article writing, illustrations, or anything else creative. Because being creative and customer service is all I'm good at, and I hate people (courtesy of the job I just lost).
And that is the fail.
tl;dr: My fiance broke up with me two years ago and I still love him (suck), I lost my job after moving in with a roommate to help her get out of bullshit, and now she's kicking me out (fail).