Hello. It's Quinton. For the second time. And I am terribly frustrated that I've now done this not once, but twice. I swore to myself when I got my start in journalism that it would never come to this. Then, I was laid off, as part of a large wave of layoffs at a particular time. Woefully common story.

I'm not even sure what to write here. As a journalist, that's never a great sign, but here we are. I want to emphasize something right off the bat. I ran a fundraiser to get me by for a few months back when this went down. A spectacular group of people, who I can never thank enough, came together during these universally tough times to help keep my household afloat. (By "my household," I mean my two cats and myself. They're in the cover photo. Because I love them.)

At the time, I thought to myself, "There's no way I'll still be unable to get by once these donations run out." Oh, ye of too much faith; I'm still freelancing minimally and I've not yet secured full-time employment. It has proven harder than I had hoped. I'm at my wit's end.

I have tried, and tried, and tried. Application, application, application. Every day, I am trying. Have I lost touch somehow? I'm watching videos on good job-search policies. There was a time, when I was younger, that I aced nearly interview for any position I sought. (That's no stealth brag — I'm talking about food service and retail! My pre-journalism days, those.)

I keep my head up high, but it's getting a bit lower with each passing week. I've had several near-successes. Good interviews, supposedly, but companies went in a different direction. Or a solid lead, but the company decided to roll with folks who live closer to the office despite work-from-home conditions.

A close friend of mine has continued to help multiple times. I'd cite them by name but that's probably a bit weird, but he knows who he is, and I want him to know how much I treasure him for it. Freelancing, I'm now making a few hundred a month, which is a few hundred a month more than I was previously, but I'm still struck with electricity disconnect notices and all the rest of it. I'm still staring down the inescapable fact that I presently cannot afford my bills.

And so I'm here, and I hate it, I truly do. I would much rather you donated your hard-earned money to a noble cause. You know, wildlife preservation; cancer research (I am a cancer survivor, so believe you me, that'd be terrific of you); progressive activist causes. Or maybe even other people who need the help, right? Basically anyone but me.

If you donated to my previous fundraiser campaign, I especially want you to stop and think, "Should I do this again?" Because there truly are so many other things to help with in this messed-up world. Not to mention, you're putting yourselves out financially, and I rather doubt many of my readers here are rich. If so, congrats.... but you know what I mean. It ain't easy out here.

Yet, here I am. In need of aid. And I've learned something important recently, and that's that pride alone will never sustain me, no matter how fiercely I wish it were so. It sure as heck won't sustain my cats, Yukiko and Marie. It's brought down empires, and it'll leave me without the lights on soon if I don't click publish on this stupidly lengthy diatribe.

If, and only if, it is truly in your power to help, then anything whatsoever is appreciated. I set the fundraiser to the lowest possible number I could conceivably add to my present earnings to keep things going for a couple more months, because I'm not going to ask for more than that. I just won't. But I'm going to go ahead and get this thing started now. So... yep. Thanks.