I have no weed and no money, which means that my mind has been racing like a maniac for the past 24 hours. It's been a restless time. I went to the coffee shop and did job applications today for an hour and a half, like I said I would. It wasn't that hard. The hardest part of my life is not having money or weed - which still isn't that hard. It's not Rwanda-hard. It's not even Detroit-hard. In the grand scheme of things, I am lucky as hell, and I know that - but being broke with no weed is still no fun.
I have no room to complain. I was born a white, middle class male in San Diego - which means I got a head start on pretty much everyone (except the rich white kids I went to school with, but that's a different story). The fact that I had such a good starting position makes the fact that I am broke hard to swallow - if you measure success by money. Thankfully, I don't - I made that mistake before and it led me into a legal career I hated. Now, I do what I love, which means that I am winning even though I can't pay my fucking bills. It's a fact - I am much more satisfied with my life now than I was when I was an attorney making a lot more money. In my last year as an attorney, I made roughly 5x what I make now - and I wouldn't even consider going back to law. Not for a second.
I don't say these things to hate on lawyers. Far from it. I met lawyers who I have tremendous respect for - who are great at what they do and are on the front lines fighting for people who need it on issues that matter. I'm a fighter, too. But not in a courtroom. My fight is to tell the truth - my truth - as clearly and concisely as I can. That fight takes place, right here, right now, every day at the typer.
My job doesn't require me to face death or getting my ass kicked, but it does require me to face the truth. For that, I am grateful. I want a job that keeps me real, and I've chosen to tell you about my life as honestly as I can. As long as I do that, I am winning regardless of how much money is in my bank account.