Today was uneventful. I went to lunch with my friend the Coach. I was on day 3 of my juice cleanse. I decided I would eat lunch with him though because it would be kind of awkward to be at a restaurant and not eat. As it turns out, I really like the juicing. I mean, eating food is great and all, but the juicing makes me feel so good. I think I will continue to do at least three a day (if I can afford it). So my friend the Coach has three jobs. He coaches plus he has two others. I was telling him how I lost my biggest writing gig and I was praying that I wouldn’t have to go get a “regular” job. I’m not sure if anyone understands how negatively working in the real world affects me.
I wouldn’t mind it if I could work for someone who was trying to help people. Or a nonprofit who was doing good things in the world. But everybody is so self-centered and just trying to make the almighty dollar. Which is fine. I get it. That’s what makes the world go round. But I prefer happiness over money. That’s probably why I permanently live at or below the poverty line. And then I scroll through my newsfeed and see all these 20-year-olds trying to pitch me on how to make 6 figures writing. And every other message in my inbox, if it isn’t from some foreigner trying to marry me, it’s from some writer trying to show me how to be a better writer. But when I go to their web pages, they have spelling or grammar errors on the home page. What the fuck am I going to sign up for that course for? I messaged one of them to tell them about their homepage. I got an automated response. I’m giving up on life.
Not really, but I think I will if I have to work a job that I hate. I’ve done that my whole adult life. I’ve had a few that I really love, like this one that just ended, but for the most part, I hate working for people, because people are stupid. Not all. But a lot. I’m not opposed to working for decent folk. I just can’t seem to find any. Or can’t find any who pay what I need to make. I did apply for a couple “regular” jobs that I might be good at. Like showing people how to use the city bus to get to their appointments. I could do that. I love the bus. And I’m familiar with it. It’s only a part-time job. It won’t pay my rent, but it would help.
I think I’m going to post an ad on Craigslist. After all, that’s where I found this last gig. And I’ve found a few others on there, so maybe someone will find me. I also pimped myself out on my Instagram and Facebook stories. I know lots of bloggers on there. So I’m hoping someone will want to use my services. Unfortunately, they may all be like me and just write and post, only reading over the blog one time before going with it. Who knows.
I’ve been trying to rack my brain to figure out what it is that Knoxville needs but doesn’t have and so far, I haven’t come up with much. I don’t have the entrepreneurial spirit that one needs to come up with new and exciting ideas. You need a love poem? I got you. You need a break-up letter? I got you. You want a personalized erotic short story? I got you. You want a children’s story? I got you. You want me to come up with some new and brilliant business to start? I’m lost, like a worm in the rain.
Needless to say, I’m getting my hustle on again. I’m still leaving drug dealing and prostitution off the table for now. I may look into it at a later date. When stripes and orange jumpsuits come back in style.
But for now, I hustle.
RouletteWeekend 