Foreword: Do not read
As I walk alone on the empty street late at night, I wonder if I am afraid of
The blackness behind the dense olive trees
The hooting of the night birds
The chirping of crickets
The whistling of the cool wind in my ears
The scared and scurrying hares and raccoons
A crescent moon which looks like it’s more than one
The red star
The purple sky
The possibility of a drunk loitering in the corner, beyond his wits
The sight of the scary truck at the end of the never-ending road
I walk fast. Not because I am afraid of any of these. I am afraid of dying of hunger after a ridiculous day.
Flashback – the morning is so good I can’t believe. My boss has expressed the desire that I continue working with her even after summer. She makes business plans with me, and I manage to convince her to pay me in cash here on, so that I do not have to pay my University more than I earn for a credit that is not going to add any value. I am more annoyed about the fact that I have to pay to earn. Simply ridiculous. She agrees, I count my monies, and am glad to make some calculations.
I have to pay my broker, a crook basically, who tapped very well onto my blonde moment. I give people too much benefit of the doubt, and I thought he was a really nice guy in a dirty business. Who was he? My relative? Best friend? Basically, I have to pay him a lot. Not his fault. Mine. Lesson learnt the hard way.
I had made a plan to visit my folks in the winter break, upon severe emotional blackmailing. I make a new plan to can that plan. I become a selfish bitch, because I don’t want to spend money on flight tickets to meet my folks who will feed me great food for two days, and after that very unscrupulously bore me to death with the talks of marriage. I know they have reached a stage where I can get any guy from anywhere, just a guy, but I am not in for that shit, and the best way to avoid that is to not go there. If we got to meet, they come to my den, here, and I show them around. Like a king.
I look at other expenses to be made, and am glad things are falling into place. I tick off a lot of things off my to-do list. I have started making peace with some other things, like knowing that some of the best things you feel, you feel them for yourself, in your imagination. Also, I start to work harder toward my dream, that one dream – bikini boutique, clothing line, sea, travel, cloudy dreamland. I cannot believe the satisfaction I am beginning to feel. It is scary. I tell myself – dudette, calm down. Remember what Bill Watterson taught you through Calvin and Hobbes? “That’s one of the remarkable things about life. It’s never so bad that it can’t get worse.” I get an email in some time – to pay to renew my fucking health insurance. Whoa! That is it. I have been sick for about two months now, and I have no clue why I am being made to pay so much for a fucking health insurance.
But life is not about surviving. It is about thriving. I don’t remember who said that, but someone did. It’s so for everyone, innit?
PS: The title is so, thanks to a friend who reminded me of this song, at the right time – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_izvAbhExY