yesterday, the bossman shitcanned my co-worker. now, I work at a shoe store that employs less than five people. correction: as of yesterday, it employs two people, the bossman and myself. I live within walking distance of both of my jobs, which is a blessing, but it also means that during the winter, I won’t be able to Just Not Go To Work (“HAY GUISE, MY CAR WON’T RUNNNNN! I CAN’T MAKE IT TO WORK TODAAAAY”) if I just want to stay in bed slash have a mental health day because it’s snowing out and everything is cold. nope. I am a big kid and I have responsibilities. don’t get me wrong, it’ll be nice to be able to potentially pay two months of rent all at once. it will. it’s going to feel really nice to work so much I don’t have to worry about whether or not we’ll make rent and be able to go to the bar, eat out, do nice things, put gas in my car, pay off my credit card, et cetera. but my goodness. I am going to be burned out by January at this rate. well, burnt out by January, but lying through my teeth about it until March because IT FEELS WONDERFUL TO BE MAKING ENOUGH MONEY.

but the problem with making enough money is that I never have enough time to do everything I want to, and by the time I get home all I really want to do is get stoned, catch up on the news, and crash by ten or eleven o’clock in the evening.

I have to remind myself that I am doing this because stability feels nice.

I have to remind myself that one day, my wandering imagination will come out of its hibernation.

I have to remind myself to learn something new everyday, and hold onto it.

I have to remind myself to get on a steady schedule of writing, because if I fucking don’t, I’ll lose it.

but… yes, it feels nice to achieve stability. I just wonder how fried I’ll be by next July.