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