I now know
Why people quit their amazing high-paying jobs with great benefits and power-tripping priviledges to open a doggy daycare in LA. You're brain literally tries seeping out of your ears some days and you realize you'd be a hundred times happier and have a good 5-7 additional hours to spend sleeping and you don't actually need that fat bank account. I was drunkenly stumbling home after a depressingly short yet alarmingly draining work day and I made the above realizations. I wasn't actually drunk, I was having a moment of extremely low blood sugar caused by my brian trying to focus, thus not leaving my office and all that I could reach was cookies all damn day, and I was dehydrated because my coffee pot is closer than my water jug. Needless to say, it was a sorry state of mind, but all I wanted to do was get my spin certification and be a Spin Coach. Spin Coach Chy! All I'd have to worry about is maintaining a high a perky ass to bounce a quarter off of, and making sure the morbidly obese girl in the corner that is red-faced and sweating like a stuck pig does keel over on her bike and make a coronary run towards heart failure. That's all. Life would be good.
My job is just too much stress for no reward. I cop a huge attitude, and think it's justified because I'm the only one getting their ass outta bed and into work at 6:30 on mornings I don't hit the gym and 7:15 on morning I do. Yet I'm still there at 5:30, and if it weren't for the fact that I have a gorgeous and great boyfriend who may just want to see me occassionally, I'd be there later. I have 6 days till Christmas and all I have managed to purchase was a singular leather jacket that I promptly gave to the recipient because the thought of sneaking back to the store, purchasing it, taking it home, wrapping and taking it back to the man that is standing IN FRONT OF ME was too much effort, time and thought. Here you go, Merry Christmas, done. I just want to be able to leave my job at work, and enjoy my sisters, my dad and step mom. I don't want to lay awake in the middle of the night wondering if I forgot someone, something and tomorrow one of my clients is going to call me and tell me their bank account was frozen and they didn't buy presents for their 15 Jersey kids and the mortgage is already in arrears and they no food. I know I put it on myself, but it don't make it go away.
I love the constant pressure of work, I know I'll need to be challenged at whatever I end up doing, but at least by then hopefully I'll be making my own hours and be able to use my Mariners knowledge to smack some smarts into Bivasi. And have the dough to fly my brother out for a week long Mariner's/Yankees baseball binge. I feel that I have almost mastered tax law, without passing the bar, and I want to learn other parts of law to be able to market myself better while funding my insanely expensive tuition I am anticipating, but I'll never make it to law school if I don't cut back, let alone learn another market. The rate I'm going, I'll be lucky to see one Mariners game this year, although, they are starting to look remarkably like the Royals right now. Did anyone see they let go PINEIRO!!!!!!! And, with my luck, it'll be the RSox against M's playing like they are 29 out 30 ranked MLB franchises on my birthday and I will cry 'cause no Pineiro, no playoff hopes, no REAL baseball in Seatle. I love baseball.
If I became a spin coach, Spin Coach Chy, I'd probably end up trying to have an intellectual conversation with some gym rat whose concern with bicep measurements was temporarily interupted by his remembering the spin coach has an ass to bounce a quarter off of, and stumbled into my perky cardio bike hell. He'll think my thoughts on tax and immigration are a come on and I'll end up a statistic. Maybe I'll stick with law.
Money, I hate to be ruled by it, but things gotta be put in motion and unfortunately it all needs to be financed by me. Can't afford a beautiful coat on a spin coach salary. I know it'll be worth it, I just need to stop being a whine princess and jump. Baseball will still be here in a few years.
So hot in that jacket. It was made for you.
Do what will make you happy, in the end money really doesn't matter. You can't take it with you when you die! Wouldn't you rather be happy whiel you are here. Go be the Spin Coach Chy!
How the...! What the....! You pop on and off! Don't you have a job?
No. I'm holding out for Regular Joes. I have it all worked out in my head, and I think JoeDelicious will be the best bartender ever. He's got character, and sarcasm and I know, KNOW he'll make a friggen to-die-for Bloody Mary. But, it might be a RSox bar, and we can't have another in Seattle.
I'll make it look just like a HoJo's
Ok, Bob Dylan, we practically just wrote you a song.
HAH! Let's rephrase that: Joe could open a whorehouse. Did you know that Seattle used to have a very prevalant prostitution community a long time ago? I wanna say 1800's, useless information, but whatever.
