Damn

Have you ever been in situation where you felt as if you just couldn’t catch a break?  It’s even worse when you know you had a hand in creating the seemingly bad luck.  If my life over the last 40 years were a play, it’d be a Shakespearean tragedy.  Just when you think I’m poised to ascend to the throne, I do something stupid.  Quite often I am unaware that I’m self-sabotaging.  Whatever it is, it seems like a good idea at the time, then life turns on the light and I see the bodies scattered at my feet and the blood stains won’t wash off.

Groundhog-Day-4

Year after year, same shit.  My own Groundhog Day only no romantic leading man (if you could consider Bill Murray as such) waits for me when the day finally stops repeating. Or at least as far as I know.  Anyway, let me finish this pity party so we can move on, or rather, get back into the loop.

You guys know I’m a writer.  You know that I write women’s contemporary fiction (Chick Lit) where the leading lady comes to love herself as is, AND then finds the perfect guy.  That whole, wait to be rescued or wait for a man’s love to validate you as a woman madness has no room in my fiction.  You would think at this point, I’d be writing from experience, that I, like my leading characters would have gone through my trials and tribulations and be in a position where I’d met my major goals, was earning my dream salary, and basically living the dream right? I’d be confident, spend more days happy than not, and have a grasp on my future.  I’d also be at goal weight and optimum health.

Um, yeah.  Instead, I have one more “great idea” that I want to bring to fruition (because the others worked out so well…NOT), single digit checking and saving account balances,  quintuple digit debt and am facing a potentially meatless Thanksgiving day dinner.  Gas tank is a quarter full and it takes an eighth of a tank one way to get to work.  I’m roughly twenty pounds off my desired weight and watching an automatic payment go to a gym I drive by on my way to and from work.

***Side note: took ten dollars from an already anorexic budget and bought one of those money self-help books. I’ll not bad mouth it here in my blog because that’s not going to help anything.  I will say this – I’m tired of people who have come from privileged backgrounds offering advice on how to manage money when they have NEVER lived hand to mouth, been without a steady income (for longer than that one summer when they took a break to go back backing around Europe to ‘find’ themselves), gone without the necessities or even luxuries for that matter.  They speak of paying myself first, making sure my investments are in order, and suggest making those little sacrifices to make sure I’ve got three months of expenses put away in savings.  @_@.

***Side note part deux:  along those same lines, I’ve grown extremely tired of the feel good stories about people who just “up and quit” their jobs to pursue their life’s passions.  There are gaps in the stories. Gaps that don’t explain how living expenses where met while the dream manifested, how they got the capital to start that business, or move to another country.  Telling me to “just do it” is a crock o’warm crap.

Sigh.  But I guess I’m ultimately grateful for all of that to a point.  It all serves to keep the idea fresh in my mind.  Provides fuel to keep me motivated to keep trying, even though I seem to end up back where I started (lol).  I know this too shall pass.  I know things aren’t as dire as they feel.  I also know that I get on this tread mill fairly frequently and will be off again as soon as I get my heart pumping again around this latest venture.  I just needed to vent, so thanks for reading.  Although, if any of what I wrote feels / sounds familiar and you’d be interested in having a more realistic approach to self-help / love / acceptance and debt recovery, then please leave a comment.  You’d be helping me conduct some un-official market research.  Thank you!

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