It Just Keeps Piling Up, Doesn't it?

Freaky Friday, or more like, freaked-OUT Friday, is what yesterday must have been.
I can feel the horror of a long, hard traveled road coming to an end, and instead of dying peacefully, it has to kick and spit blood in my face, right to the very end.

Anxiety, or anxiousness at the inevitable end of my life with Bridget is overbearing at this point. It's like a long prison sentence nearing it's end and I can't sleep at night, knowing those iron gates are close to closing behind me permanently, but the last leg of this time served is becoming the roughest yet.

And it's all about the one thing that the bulk of our problems has been at the core of; Finances! Money, and the never ending lack of it.

In June, when the landlord, Steve, came to collect the rent, I didn't have all of it, and I explained to him that the next few months were going to be rough and that I'd probably be late through the end of August. He gladly agreed to work with me, and that he understood.
God I hate a liar.
After much harassment and many threats from him, I did pay off the June rent, just in time for July to arrive. Yesterday, he came looking for money and I had none for him.
To backtrack a bit, on Wednesday, the phone was turned off, and the water company has been due to cut me off since the 30th of June, but miraculously, I've been spared, to date. Knowing I was in a jam, I asked my boss if he could loan me 500 bucks, which he unblinkingly said yes to.
I love my boss, man. He is one of the good ones, when he wants to be.

Wednesday, he left for the day, Thursday he told me that he would include it in my Friday paycheck and knowing I wouldn't have the rent, I was excited about catching up the phone, water, and with my raise that I'm expecting to kick in this week, the cable and Rent A Center.

As he handed out the checks, as we left for the day, he told me that he couldn't write the check for my loan, but he'd have it Monday. OK, it sucks, but I can live without a phone for a few more days, and the water's not getting shut off over the weekend. Then I looked and voila! No raise!.

And right as I got home and was in the middle of the endless fight that Bridget and I call communication, Steve showed up. So, I explained, I have no money this week and he started crying the blues about his bills and that he wasn't going to "carry me" anymore, so I lost it.
I told him that he should just go ahead and do what he needs to do, but on Monday, I'll be calling the Health Department to complain about the black mold in my bathroom that my children are exposed to, that he's known about for two years and has never lifted a finger to clean up. The next call, I told him would be to the building inspector so he can see the windows that are practically falling off the house, which I keep complaining about and the dead limb on the big tree in front that's ready to crash to the ground, that he ignores. The next call, I told him, would be to a lawyer to ask if he can legally kick me out when I'm only 10 days late with the rent. I mean, isn't that why I paid an extra month's deposit? In case shit like this happens?
So he stormed out, and returned a few minutes later with a poorly photocopied piece of paper demanding I pay up by the 16th or vacate.
I've played THAT game before so I have to laugh at his feeble attempt to try and come across as having legal precedence to give me a non-notarized, non-legal demand to vacate the premises.

Still, it's all just more stress on top of the mountain of the stuff I'm already buried under. But I still have to grin inside.

Because the prison gates are going to open for me, and freedom is at hand, if I can just make it to the next minute, the next hour, the next day and next week.