I’ll start this off with the fact that I hate money.
I know. Everyone says that. Everyone, especially now, is having a fuck of a time. Bills have to be paid. Kids need diapers and food. Cars don’t run without gas. My problems, in no way, take more precedence than any other family trying to keep everything together. We’re all trying not to sink under this never-ending weight of feeling like you’re working your ass off, day after day, never seeing the people you’re doing it for, and for what?
The red envelopes still show up in the mail.
The phone still rings for an answer and your routing number.
The library remains the last outing that’s affordable. Though at this point, it resembles more closely a broken down sales-outlet that barely captures the images of the place I felt was a second home.
I’m not writing this for sympathy or as a plea for help. I’m writing this because more than once, shit, more than i can count, I have felt utterly alone in this flailing to keep everything okay. Keep everything normal. And I know there have to be others out there that feel the same way. Regardless of whether they talk about it or not.
So, I’m throwing this out there. Feel free to comment and commiserate and bitch. Or, just read this and know that you’re not alone. There are others trying, pushing, shoving. And we’re all going to get out of this at some point. There may be some scars, but seriously, wear those motherfuckers with pride. This is warfare and you got out alive.
Besides, everyone knows war wounds are way cooler than tribal tattoos. *They can also get you free beer.
*Free beer not guaranteed.