Working Title

I realize that life is hard for a lot of people.  I’m certainly not the 1%. Hell, I’m probably not even in the 60% (Don’t ask me. I’m bad at math).  But the LAST thing anyone should ever do is look at me and say that I have it easy.

I was once told I live a life of leisure and for the longest time I dug that. I would repeat it. Cherish it.  Of course, I was working two or three jobs at the time. See, I don’t live to work. I work to live. Otherwise I would be homeless.  And no, I wouldn’t be living back home. There is no back home.  I once asked my mother to be my roommate and she said NO. Can you fucking believe that? I even laid out WHY I would subject us to such horrors (Look at all the money I can save for my future) and she was still like, Nopeitynopenope.

I barely keep my head above the water, above the sand, above whatever is going to strangle me to death.  I’m so lucky to have the job that I have. Is it my life long passion? No. Do I still live paycheck to paycheck? Yes, but Jesus, the cost of living around here is pretty pretty pretty high. And I live alone. Which I prefer. So no roommates for me. Not even Mommy Dearest.

So I have a huge rent. A car payment (NOT a new car. Not even close). Cable/internet/phone bill. Which I tried to get them to bring the price down and they threatened to take away my favorite precious stations. Forget it. Cable TV is the only thing I live for anymore! And the internet! (Phone…eh. Just in case my cell stops working, which reminds me…) Cell phone. And yes I have an iPhone. My first iPhone. Not my first smartphone though. So that’s expensive. What else? Oh yeah … car insurance. Renters insurance. Health insurance through work. Doctor’s bills. Oh credit card bills. Can’t forget those.

So, explain to me again how my life isn’t harder than yours. See? If I lose my job, I can’t rely on my partner to bring home the bacon while I work at Bed, Bath and Beyond for spending money. If I lose my job and work at Bed, Bath and Beyond, I’m pretty much asking to be tossed on my ass.

Ok, you have kids. And how is that hard again? Aren’t they little minions that you can make wash the dishes and fold the laundry? They are called chores. And guess who does my chores? Not my fucking kids. Cuz I don’t have any. Which is fine with me. One almost bumped into me at the mall last week and I literally vocalized disgust.

What I do have is a lot of time on my hands (now that I stopped working more than one job. For now). And I guess people mistake that for … I don’t know…carefree and fancy life. I don’t think so. I don’t have anyone to rely on. I must do everything myself. Including being my own shoulder to lean on. My own sounding board (bad idea since I’m a pessimist). My own everything.

I am NOT saying I want a husband (did that. done that.) or kids (I really don’t. At my age? Oh dear God. I’d be able to get a senior citizen discount at the movies while my kids got a junior price.)  It’s just not my bag. The only reason to want a husband is so he can pay some of these monthly bills that won’t stop! That would be nice. Otherwise, I’m all set. For now.

Not that long ago I was at the Boston Pops (look at me being fancy again!). I sat next to a girl, jeez, a woman at our age, that grew up in the same neighborhood at me and now lives in the same city as me. Except, I grew up in a fancier part of the childhood neighborhood and now live in a fancier part of the city.  And while that is true, my family was never fancy, that’s just where we ended up – when I grew up. And I ended up in this neighborhood now because YES it’s very nice and YES I drop a hefty dime to live here.  The funny thing was, the chick turned to her friend and called me out on the place I grew up and the place I live now. And for like, a second, I felt like I was some rich kid or something. And no matter how many times I said, “It’s totally not like that,” I guess it kind of is like that. Because where that chick lives now…I would not be caught dead in. No thank you.

Everyday my life is a struggle. And it sucks. Everything I do puts me further into debt. But I’m here now, at the party called life. I don’t remember RSVP’ing, and I can’t leave. So I’m trying to make the best of it.

As for my signoff, I’ve got two shows waiting for me on my DVR. I spellchecked this shit but I refuse to go back and deal with grammar. So…suck it.



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