So anyway, its been a long week. Lost a fight to smoking, got my paycheck (and finished it the same day, oh well, good thing I still live at home.....no, actually, its not, but meh), dealt with my asshat coworkers that have decided to not speak to me, all because I am supposed to have 'carried news' on one of them or somesuch bullshit, but whatever, I'm there for the paycheck, I ain't got to talk to none of them.
I tried to figure out some ways to make extra money earlier this week, and what I realised was, I'm not a natural born hustler. Yup. Its a humbling realisation, for someone that once had thug life aspirations (haven't we all.....no?.....well, ok then...), to realise that if I was probably plucked out of my current position in life, and plopped down on the mean streets of (insert city possessing mean streets here), I'd probably starve to death, if not end up in a hotel room somewhere, in a bathtub full of ice and lacking my (insert internal organ of choice that human can live without, and possessess a great demand on the black market).
Its sad really. At one point in my life, I had it all planned, how me and my friends were gonna be hoodlums, and do all manner of dastardly deeds for money, turning my back on my morals and my family to follow a life that the music that I listened to at the time led me to believe was the life to live. I look back at those days, and shake my head at how far out of my god given brains I was. The things I used to do, the way I'd disappear out of my house for days at a time, and then the things I'd spend those days doing.....planning this, scheming on that, and, in all seriousness, looking at the long term, for the life of a gangster.
I must've been out of my mind.
I look back at that time, and the person who I was is standing at the other end of a loooooooong hall, and I can only make out his shape and maybe his clothes, other than that, I can't see him clearly at all. I don't understand the way he thinks, the things that drive him to do what he does, I don't know what kind of home life he has, I just.....don't know him at all. He's alien to me. He's like that cousin, you know, the one that everyone has. You're close to him as a child, but when you grow up, you don't see him at all anymore, and you only hear of what he's up to through the family channels, still getting up to his tricks and antics, but you've moved on to the serious process of being an adult (or at least not doing the crap that he's doing these days). He was fun to hang with for a while, but you're too old for that now (and secretly, your happy that you stopped hanging with him before something really serious, and potentially life threatening/changing happened).
Like I said, crazy.
Which brings me back to my current predicament. I've got a wedding in a few months, and I need to make some money, like pronto. I've never really had to.....hustle before, just winging it got me bye, supported by friends that would let me crash, or cadge a meal (or ten), and then my family (the long suffering folk that they were/are) would turn up at a critical moment (okay, they'd be there throughout, but I'd only turn to them when I had NOTHING left....which was waaaay more than I liked), and provide something. But, I could get by, uptown hustling, if you get me. Now, I'm in a eight to four, in a town that, despite having grown up here, I don't know at all, and which I don't (nor have I ever) felt a part of, everyone of my other friends that I went to school with seem to be moving up, whether legally or illegally, and.....my brain hurts. I just can't seem to hack it, and its really beginning to piss me off now.
Bleagh. Going to bed now.
More as it develops.
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