the words just hung there. 'just budget better.' i just stared at them, letting the miami humidity make my skin crawl, thinking of every spreadsheet, every single drop i counted. my mouth said nothing. but my jaw. my jaw CLENCHED so hard my temples started to THROB, that old, familiar beat. like the math ever added up? the math never adds. it's not a budget problem, it's a deficit, you FUCK. and i'm not even scrambling for couch coins anymore, not like before. but that white-hot, sickening rage, it still flares right behind my sternum, ready to BURN. because it’s not about knowing how to add. it’s about not having anything TO add. and that’s a different kind of bullshit.