This is stupid but I'm still just so… annoyed. Infuriated, actually. Not really at anyone else, just at myself, mostly. I went to this gala last night – fancy fundraiser for the scholarship program that got me into college. Black tie, the whole nine yards. I spent my last twenty bucks on a secondhand dress that looked *decent* but clearly wasn't from whatever boutique all these other women frequented. And my shoes? Forget about it. They were pinching my toes within the first hour and by the time dessert rolled around, I was practically hobbling. Why do I do this to myself? I had to pretend to be someone I'm not all night, laugh at their stupid jokes, nod along to conversations about Hamptons houses and their 'charity work' that basically amounted to signing checks. My 'charity work' is making sure my landlord gets paid on time every month. The worst part was having to keep up this facade. Everyone there was so effortlessly… rich. And I was just this… imposter. Talking about my "freelance consulting" and "independent projects" when what I really meant was I was hustling three different gigs just to cover rent and the ever-increasing cost of health insurance. Trying to make it sound glamorous when it's really just a constant scramble, always checking my bank account, always wondering if this month's invoices will actually clear. I kept thinking about how many hours I'd have to work to afford just one of the hors d'oeuvres they were passing around. It's ridiculous – I felt like I was playing a character in some bad movie, and the director was constantly whispering "more charming, less stressed" in my ear. And then this guy, incredibly well-meaning, I guess, but also incredibly clueless, asked me what my "passion project" was. My passion project? My passion project is not starving and maybe, just maybe, one day having enough consistent income to actually save for something bigger than a new pair of socks. I just smiled, mumbled something about a "developing concept," and excused myself to go find the bathroom – which, by the way, was fancier than my actual apartment. I'm just so angry at the whole charade, at myself for participating, and for feeling like I HAVE to participate to "network" and "build connections." Like I’m not good enough as I am, the broke kid who actually got here on merit and not just inherited wealth. Ugh. Still fuming.