All the dead presidents couldn't put life back together again

My general sentiment is that I hate money. I mean, I really hate it. I hate how people love it, how they sell their souls for it. I hate how much you need it to live and how the more you have the more power you have, even if you're an idiot. I guess in my own life, I hate how much stress one lives under when one hasn't enough.

What breaks my heart the most, however, would be just how relieved I am to get some extra. I am sad that I have made some decisions over the last few months based solely on the money involved. I have stifled the flame of discontentment with a bit of cash.

It makes me feel pathetic and shallow.

But the truth is a weight is lifted. There is some room to breathe. Room to decide.

Time has been bought.

Like any sound investment, the trick is using that time wisely so as not to waste the power of the chance to make the choices that will continue that roomy feeling that I have when I awake in the morning. How do I keep finding the time without constantly dipping into the piggy bank? The truth is the answer lies no where near the money that was spent to get the ball rolling in the direction of happiness. And the trick is not forgetting that.

charge!

If I hear it one more time.."Just take charge of your life!"

I think the people who say this....mean well....they just live in a different world. A world where decisions they make affect only them. When one is making life choices for 3 lives instead of 1, things get more complicated. Concessions are made. It sucks.

There is this fine, fine line between responsibility and personal survival. One must ask themselves how much of their soul they can and will sacrifice to save the others.

How much less of myself can I stand being?

At what point am I being selfish if the decision I make really only benefits me?

Then there is the guilt. I hate my life. I hate being stuck. I hate the lack of choices. I hate the bad choices I made that got me here. So this really is all MY fault, why am I complaining? I hope they don't think I hate THEM. I just hate what I have to be and do because of what I did that got me here with them.

Who wants to be in charge of that?

You there, the take-charger, here ya go, be my guest.

sign language

My 6-year-old is really into telling me how to drive these days now that he can read all the street signs. His 4-year-old brother likes to join in yelling, "Stupid light, turn green!" That's the kind of life I enjoy. The sign says stop, you stop. The light is green, you go. Do not enter means do not enter. It's all just so obvious and simple. Sometimes, maybe you're running late, so that stupid light is an awful inconvenience, but there are rules that must be obeyed. And so it is....

Then there are the areas of life in which the signage is not so clear and easy to read. And this is where I have trouble. I mean, I'm a pretty smart girl, I can make door knobs out of masking tape, you know, but sometimes I think that being resourceful is the opposite of helpful. See, I have this one thing in my life that just won't get itself together. Every time I turn around the bottom is falling out. Over and over and over. A sign, right? I mean if so many obstacles keep popping up, then a new path should be found. Adversity really brings out the problem solver in me, though, so I kick into high gear and fix it, or try at least. And I'm thinking, maybe this is a test in patience. Maybe I am supposed to be learning to wait things out and not freak out as soon as things look to be impossible. In the end, right on time, things always work out.

Really?!? I mean, how confusing is that mess? Is this the right way or not? I need a big, fat DO NOT ENTER sign.  Am I supposed to being learning to tough it out and be patient or am I supposed to drop this and do something else? This thing that I'm fighting with is what I want, which automatically brings doubt as I do not fully trust my own desires, so maybe that is the sign. One should learn from their past. But my past has also taught me that I can handle a lot more frustration and difficulty then I am currently handling. This is more irritating than anything, so again, a better sign would be appreciated. Not that I want to be hit by a car or struck by lightening, but I do see some potential there. 

So fine then. I am of the mind to leave well enough alone if the problem has the tendency to work itself out. And if that's not truly the right path, then hit me with something here. My eyes are wide open. 

American Roulette

 I just read an article in Newsweek about a man so rich he collected million dollar properties, you know, like a hobby. Well, in this economy, he's stopped. Not because he can no longer afford to purchase these properties, but because he feels bad doing it right now.

In this economy,  I am sitting at my living/dining room table, in my apartment that I rent, the rent on which I am a month behind, eating ramen noodles, debating over paying my gas bill and overdrawing my account when my rent check goes through or not paying my gas bill so I avoid those stupid $35 overdraft fees (Bank of America will never go under if I have anything to do with it) and taking the chance that my gas will be turned off before I can make a substantial payment next week, in January, in weather below freezing at night, with small children in the house who like to go places and eat stuff and stay warm. 

Maybe spreading the wealth isn't such a bad idea. I'm not asking for a hand out, I love to work actually. I am asking for a break, though. A break from a life that requires worry over simply surviving, let alone saving. That guy from Newsweek, maybe he came over the ocean from some far away land, and he worked really hard from the time his feet hit American soil to amass such great wealth that he could "go downstairs and buy a Ferrari right now." Maybe he spent days agonizing over which bill to pay with this week's check and hoping that the final notices will wait two more weeks till the next pay check. Maybe he has wished for days of either or, tired of always enduring days of anything or nothing. 

I understand the need for and point of capitalism. I am a capitalist. I am working as hard as I can to make as much money as I can. But there is never enough. And there is this hole that I am in; not even counting debt, we're talking day to day, week to week, month to month life. How is there not enough? If you work this hard, you shouldn't fall into this hole. This well; a slick, slimy walled well, with no finger holds, no bottom, and a bucket that keeps banging you on the head each time you come up for air and a glimpse of the open sky that you know is there only because that stupid bucket has gotta be coming from somewhere, right? 

I'm sure that Newsweek guy knows exactly how I feel. 

I won't give up. I mean who's a quitter really, but some of us are I guess. We pass them on the street and feed them at Christmas time, and we pity them. Sometimes we think if they would have just worked harder or hadn't had those vices, they'd be where we are instead of where they are, down there beneath us. But we are so much closer than we think. I choose the wrong bill, and I get evicted. It is that life or death. 

And Newsweek guy feels my pain, he has decided not to build his multimillion dollar apartment thing in New York. I really, really appreciate his contribution.