I'm not dead. It just feels that way. - Chris Ullrich dot net

I’m not dead. It just feels that way.

Just in case you were worried. Don’t be. I’m not dead or horribly disfigured or anything of that nature. I’m fine. I’ve just been working and also dealing with some “life” stuff. You know what I mean. Like:

What are we going to do? How are we going to make ends meet or will we even have ends soon? Will I stay in my newest career or will something happen and I will need or want to switch? Will they call and give me good news or bad news or some other kind of news? What’s up with Donald Trump’s hair? Is Tom Cruise really gay? Will Mary-Kate stay out of rehab or will she go back to the pipe? You know, life stuff.

It’s fantastic that the wife found a job that she actually likes and looks forward to doing every day. It’s a welcome change for her and for me, to be sure. The only downside is the cash. The ducats. The moola. The dead presidents. In other words, the pay. Unfortunately, we had gotten used to a certain level of dough coming in and now that has been cut. And I mean cut.

Her new fantastic job pays way less than her old miserable job. Isn’t that just like life though? Something you hate pays way better than something you love. Should it not be the other way around? Bummer indeed.

I’m no better. I am doing something I really love too but it pays less than what I was doing before. Actually, on a strictly hourly basis, the new career pays more. However, what I gain in hourly I loose in volume. In other words, I just don’t have enough work and consequently, less dinero. Basically, I will have to give up the independent, freelance life and sell out to the man (or woman) who will grant me full-time, gainful employment or I will end up living in a box near a freeway overpass. At least I will still have lots of tech gadgets and a big tv! I’ll be the envy of the other homeless guys!

What’s a pretty intelligent, hard-working, fun guy like me to do? Why bitch about it right here of course. Glad you asked! I like this space because I get to say whatever I want and it actually helps to get all this out. I’m pretty sure only a handful of people are reading this and none of them actually know me personally so I can pretty much say whatever I like without fear of embarrassment or recrimination. That’s a good feeling. And Tom, if you are reading this, go fuck yourself. Man, that feels good. Wow!

If any family or friends are out their reading this feel free to comment or call us and offer your words of advice. More important though, please make your checks out to . . . well, you know if you know. I’m only joking. Really. . . Just send cash. Or gold. Gold is good.

It’s odd. When you are young (under thirty) you feel like you can do anything and nothing really gets you down (at least that’s how it was for me). Now, I have come to the realization of late that I can’t actually do anything I want. I guess it finally happened. Sometime in the last year or two I grew up. Double bummer (no, that’s really bad. Let’s go at least triple bummer for that one).

What does all this mean you may be wondering? Is their a point sometime soon? Here it is. Be sure to do everything you can to get what you want while you still feel like you have all the time in the world because someday, you won’t. But, when that day comes, you can bitch too. Just like me. So you got that going for you at least, which is nice.


You Might Also Like