WTF My Life?

My $300 Banana Republic messenger bag is gathering dust on the kitchen chair…idle from the days when it went to work with me.  Relax my little leather friend with the canvas strap.  We’ll be walking out the door again soon enough…I’m still not done paying for you.

I trolled Craigslist today to try and get some freelance work.  Still waiting for a lead to get back to me, so I can see if I can delay financial panic or not.

How fucked up is my life? I have two Tag Heuer watches, but I don’t own a home or a decent car.  Shouldn’t those things come first, before the outward symbols of success, like designer watches?  What good have those watches done me while I sit alone in my apartment with no reasonable means of getting ahead and supporting the someone that I’m waiting to meet?

So my days cycle from seeing others leave for work, and seeing them come home.  All deservedly tired from whatever money earning labor they did all day.  I sit here and drink Mountain Dew all day, which will require a trip to the dentist that, in now way, I can afford.  The only thing that makes me tired is my late night trips to the gym, or drinking all evening.

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