Hey. I’m a loser. A quitter. Always have been. I’m lazy and I don’t really like people. Ok, there’s a few. But for the most part I’m a cynical, pessimistic person really trying to make the best out of what I have. And I’m failing. And I bet you think you are too.
I’ve been reading these self help books, I think that’s what they call them. And listening to podcasts, some not of free will and choosing. I’ve been bombarded by these beautiful messages of finding what it is that makes you you, and following that dream, and the key to getting everything that you want is just a positive manifestation away and buried deep inside you. But it’s not.
It’s much harder for some of us. And they don’t talk about…us. More often than not my bank account is negative. Or nearly so. I want to be that person that has two jobs, maybe even a third! That person that works tirelessly because my hardworking family taught me how. Which they did. My father did have three jobs. So did my brother. My mother worked until she fell apart. But we’re poor. The kind of poor, not quite Grapes of Wrath poor, but a generational poor that sticks to you. It’s a lot like the snowball out of debt track, but in reverse. You try and you try, only to be gobbled up.
Live that dream. Find your spark. It will find you. Bullshit. That’s all it is. I’m 37 years old, and I’ve messed up so bad I don’t even know which end the light is supposed to shine from. It’s all assholes down here.
So, are you in? Want to see how I plan to burn down one shitfest of a life to create a glitter poop bomb infused new one? Eco-friendly, of course. Come on, let’s see if I can go from single cat lady living with her mother and no savings to…well, I haven’t gotten that far. Who’s in?