I have a 500 credit score. No health insurance. A job I kill myself at and am paid sh=t wages. I am hardly tipped because the clientele are a bunch of inner city garbage that think it’s socially acceptable to stiff a bartender. My car is falling apart. My car insurance is two months lapsed. License is suspended. Living in a house where I pay my fair share of rent and utilities, but am not on the lease because of my credit. I sleep on a 25-year-old twin mattress that sits on the floor that isn’t even mine. I just met the man of my dreams and I’m nowhere near good enough for him.
image- Infrogmation