Кадр выше наш. Полное медиа с Facebook запрошено — подставим его сюда, как только приедет.
I had $11 in my account. Not $110. Not $111. Eleven. And eight days until payday. I was sitting in the dark staring at the ceiling. Then I picked up my phone — and everything changed."** My name is Hinemoa Tahuri. I'm 25 years old. I'm not going to tell you a pretty story about how hard it is to start adult life. You know what? It's just hard. Full stop. No sugar-coating or motivational quotes. I live alone. I rent a room in a flat where there are two other flatmates I barely see. We have an unspoken agreement — don't bother each other. I cook my food. They cook theirs. We pass each other and nod. I've been working as a waitress for three years. I started out thinking it would be temporary. That I'd find something better. That my degree would help. I have the degree. Nothing better has come along. Eight to ten hour shifts on my feet. Customers who look right through you like you're part of the furniture. Tips that either don't exist or are just small change left behind like they're doi