You get Bloggish this week. My brain needs to puke. Sorry.
When I was young, you were supposed to grow up, get a good job, get married, get a nice house and car, and live happily ever after. This was entirely possible back then, you see. The little guy had as many opportunities as the elites.
Yeah, you know how that went.
But the message I got was that you were supposed to be able to overcome. Work hard and you will be rewarded. Take chances. Lean forward, keep going, shoot for the moon…
Um… That hasn’t gone too well, either.
I’ve spent most of my life trying to be upbeat. I’ve always tried to have a smile for the people around me. There was always the chance for things to get better. There was always hope.
There was… *sigh*
*Sits down on therapist’s couch* It all started with [the company I can’t mention because I’ll get sued for the severance pay I received.] I busted my ass at that company for EIGHT YEARS. I made a very modest amount of money, but it paid the bills.
Towards the end, I was actually starting to reduce my debt load(created by this company’s unstable workload, btw.) It was a long slog, but it looked like it was about to pay off. We’d just gotten swallowed up by a giant European company and they were going to FINALLY give us all bonuses and…
And they closed our location.
So, with a significant amount of debt, in my mid-thirties, and with two kids and a wife to support, I had to start my life all over.
And I did! I was able to pick up a job at the local Dollar General for $2 an hour less than what I had been making, but it was something! THEN after a few months it hadn’t got better SO I looked for a better job.
I started at the local Ford dealership here as an auto detailer. I was able to afford a cheap “starter” car for myself, and get a decent family car for the little lady. Things were looking up!
Then I was just looking forward.
I trudged along, not really going anywhere. BUT… I started writing! This was going to be SWEET.
And it was. I wrote After. People seemed to like it! I started getting attention. So I wrote Preservation Protocol and Something Deeper. And nobody cared!
Yeah… See, those that I can actually get to read my books typically like or love them. The trick is getting them to read them. Apparently that’s impossible, for some reason. It’s like, I’m missing a crucial step to unlock the profits, or something.
So I’m very good at my day job(like brutally good,) but I’m still not making a living at it. Remember that debt? It’s ballooned to twice it’s original size. I still haven’t recovered to where my income was before the Great Assening at my 8-year job.
And I’m very good at writing. I mean, I think I am? People who read my work say I am, but I made like, less than twenty bucks from it in the past year. This, despite having written four novels and numerous short stories.
I’m stuck in between.
I’m a professional detailer, but that doesn’t mean I get professional-level pay. It’s complicated, but let’s say I haven’t made great progress in the income department. I still haven’t reached what I made at that unnamed job from the beginning.
I’m an established writer and novelist (yes, there’s a fucking difference) that writes captivating stories. It’s just, like, nobody wants to pay for them, I guess?
The funny thing… Okay it’s not funny, but the thing is we’ve been surviving on welfare for like well over a decade now, because I make so little. The government considers us as living in poverty(gee, I wonder why?) So we get a bunch of money for food and housing assistance and so on…
We’re stuck in between on that, too. The eldest child is nearly eighteen. The tax return money (that I’ve used to pay on that massive, ever-present debt) will shrink. If she moves out, we’ll be forced to move. Our food stamps will shrink…
But my income won’t grow.
That debt… I’m in between on that as well. I can’t afford it anymore. It’s been stable to slightly-increasing. Well, it’s starting to grow again since I don’t have money to pay for things we need. I’m going to have to stop paying on that debt in a few short months.
Then I’ll be in between destitution and bankruptcy.
Always in between. Unsuccessful in (paid) writing, unsuccessful in making a living at my day job. Unsuccessful in paying off my debt…
I’m just really, really unsuccessful, you guys.
So I linger here, in between, waiting for everything to crash on top of me. I’ve fought hard, I’ve kept my chin up, I’ve worked my ass off, and now I have less to show for it than I did at the beginning of it all. I did everything right, and everything got worse.
So if you’ve ever wondered why I’m such a ray of fucking sunshine, well there you go.
Now, will someone please buy my damn books? Shit…