I am broke. Completely. Down and out, up shit creek, hung out to dry and suffering from a complete lack of worldly possessions- now I may still have my health, but that is only because I have insurance. Absolutely everyone I know made fun of me for spending $125 on a used barrel from the San Sebastian Winery, but it’s a good thing I have that barrel . . . I may have to live in it.
Now I have had a couple job offers- I had a neighbor offer me a couple hundred for a Chinese Massage and a bath. That sounded great . . . until I Googled “Chinese Massage”. Then a friend of mine chimes in; “I know some navy guys that would pay for bjs,” she says. “Guys can get blowjobs on Phillips Highway from a crack whore for $10, a girl like YOU could get $25 a pop! I’ll have my boyfriend talk to his Navy Buddies!”
Yeah. Thanks. Some friend.
Then I had an idea of my own: “How about we both go out, we screw the entire US Navy, then we tell them ALL we’re pregnant! Then we get them EACH to give us abortion money? The whole US Navy?”
Now *that’s* a living. And it’s about as likely.
Then I got another offer- a job as a surrogate mother. Twenty Five Thousand to grow someone *else’s* baby in my tight, little gym guru body. I did the math, 25k for nine months evens out to less than 3k a month and that’s *okay* money; but factor in the amount I’ve spent on the gym, all the cute workout gear and expensive running shoes, all those TWO DOLLAR bottles of water! Think of the Slim Fast I’ve purchased, all the carb free foods I’ve consumed! All the sit ups I’ve performed, the infinite leg lifts, the endless sets of ten! Then consider all the time I’ve spent at the gym! Collectively! All the time *EVER!*
Come on. I shall not prostitute my dignity, my self image and my crime fighting abs for any sum of money!
Your body is your temple.
This temple wasn’t cheap. And it wasn’t built in a day.
There’s tons of money in this world. How hard can it be to make 25 thousand dollars?
Money has never been important to me and had I been interested in making it, I wouldn’t have wasted all this time *writing.* Had I been motivated to make any money at all, I’d have learned to do something *profitable!* But no. Picking up crap jobs on the side to feed and house you while you *write* is not any way to make a living. I know from experience.
So my advice to you? Do not bother! If you like to write, take all the paper and pens in your home and have a nice bonfire! Torch every book you own so you won’t even be tempted! Ashes to Catherine and Heathcliff! Send Holden Caulfield to the fiery depths, burn the flowers of those stupid Dollanganger children! Delete Microsoft Word from your computer this very second! It’s all so useless. You write and write your whole life, living on Top Ramen and stealing Sweet ‘n Low packets from Denny’s, thinking it will all work out! You keep plugging away faithfully, but next thing you know, you’re begging your neighbors to mooch off their shitty wireless and stealing paper towels from the gym. It keeps getting worse, yet you go on writing . . .
Then when you’re living in a freaking BARREL, you really start to wish you’d become a Chinese Masseuse!
Writing sucks. They shouldn’t even teach it in schools.