Animal Summer

I've heard the expression "the dog days of summer" before, but I am really beginning to understand them now. It's a couple of weeks into summer weather, and a few weeks into my broke living habits, and I am starting to understand just what it's like to be a dog hung up on a hot summer day. Kept up in doors, not able to go any farther then the backyard. Lying around the house, panting and wanting to play. Sweating it out, with my tongue hanging out. Tethered to the house, not wanting to get in trouble, but just wanting to get into some fun. Only able to bark out instead of getting to go out. The dogs days of summer are what it's like when my brain reverts to thinking like a puppy, just wanting to play and enjoy life. Then, at other times, I'm reminded that everybody wants to be a cat. Because the cat's the only cat, that knows where its at. And it's fairly accurate. Lounging around the house, not bothered with anything trivial, or really anything at all. People watching through the window. Then warming myself in a sun bath. Grooming. Watching. Taking it all in without getting worked up or envious of action. Just keeping to myself and working on being purfect, while being up to my whiskers in money free activities. Adopting a feline state of mind helps me out when I'm beginning to feel caged in. Acting like a kitten keeps me from raging like a tiger. But on certain days, I don't feel very domestic, and I feel like the streets and sidewalks are holding me hostage. This is when I wish I could flush myself down the drain and end up in the ocean. Completely free to swim and make bubbles. I'd be as happy as a dolphin and as carefree as a clown fish. Only having to worry about getting caught up by a bird. It would be just as freeing to fly away, as it would be to swim away. Often times I have to resort to the cleverness of a bird, especially the ones that are caged. They always find ways to keep themselves occupied, with their wit and songs. Singing to themselves while they are perched, content as the world passes them by. I'm surprised they don't molt more often, because sometimes perching and singing is all that keeps me from pulling my own feathers out. So for the time being I'm alright with stalking and prowling around the house, keeping myself entertained and distracted. Whether by ball of string or the next best thing. But sooner or later my creativity will run out, so let's hope by then I've got more money coming in. The rest of this summer is going to be an interesting one. A tiger can only count his stripes so many times, before he has to find someone else to count them for him.

“From the oyster to the eagle, from the swine to the tiger, all animals are to be found in men and each of them exists in some man, sometimes several at the time. Animals are nothing but the portrayal of our virtues and vices made manifest to our eyes, the visible reflections of our souls. God displays them to us to give us food for thought." -V. Hugo

Money (Men) $igns

I hesitated using the dollar sign because of what Ke$ha has done to it. She doesn't even sing songs about making money. Or working. Or being productive at life at all. So why does she get to steal the dollar sign? I should incorporate it into my name. I'm working and hustling all the friggin time. I'm barely holding it down, maybe the trick is to put the money into your name; if you build it, they will come. I don't have an "s" in either my first or last name. But I could do something like, €rant. That kinda looks like my name still. Sort of. Whatever, I'm not here to start spelling my name a different a way. The point is, I'm hung up on dollar signs these days. And the fact that the amount of money that I'm being asked to put out, keeps getting larger as the amount of money I'm putting in remains the same. I know to some this is a dilemma that they have been dealing with for years and decades, but it's a new found worry wort to me. Thank goodness all my acne is fictional and worry induced, because if worry wort's showed up like red dots I would be looking like a chicken pox epidemic. I have been getting almost forty hours a week at the job I have, but I am trying to secure some other kind of income too. That way I'll have more spare change. I've already sat myself down and had a long business meeting, with myself, to explain to myself that there will be no money this summer. Or rather, that all my money is not really at home with me. I'm more like a waiting room for it. It gets to sit and read year old magazines before being called to move on to bigger and nicer things. Bigger things like Ke$ha's cracked out, tangled mess of a hair do. I've tightened my budget so much I've even cut out men. Not that I had a packed social calendar, but I'm not even allowing the thought of fitting a man into my schedule, or my wallet, these days. I have literally begun to see men as dollar signs. Just a bunch of $$$'s walking around my mall or running in my neighborhood. And I keep telling myself, I can't cash that. I don't have the bank account, or the heart, to cash a check like that. Men aren't free and money doesn't grow on trees. Hard times in the economy mean hard times in my love life. Which means some hard things will have to be dealt with in new methods. Which is alright because it's free to work out in my basement. So if I'm stranded at home on FlatBroke Island, at least I'll get toned and jacked. Plus choosing my food carefully, and frugally, will also help with getting into even better shape. So I might be locking up my wallet, but I could be cashing in on a great new exercise program. And if preventing debt means cutting costs and men, then it'll teach me to appreciate what I have hit the lottery in. I'm wealthy in friendships and family, and rich in wit and creativity. I'm no number cruncher, but Wall Street isn't the only thing that dictates whether or not my stock rises. I'm going to try hard to make frugal look fantastic, and penniless into marvelous. Wi$h me luck!

“So you think that money is the root of all evil. Have you ever asked what is the root of all money?” -Ayn Rand

Nice To Meet You

I did most of my Christmas shopping today, cut checks for house bills, and did grocery shopping. I have no money. None. And I just had a payday.


Dear Money,
It was very nice meeting, I hope you enjoyed your stay. I wish you the best of luck in your next venture.

Sincerely,
Me

I'm ready to start auctioning off internal organs on Craigslist just to make ends meet. Yikes. Oh well, what can you do. You just keep running, hoping that you stay ahead of everything chasing you down.

Where Art Thou Cardio

With my free seven days at the gym up, and several winter blizzards on their way, it seems like my daily cardio activities will have to be put on hold. Which, I fear, will make me go even more insane. I've come to rely on my post-cardio-endorphin rush to help me through my daily activities, and now I don't know what to replace it with. I suppose jumping jacks in the basement could suffice, or perhaps I could find a really big hamster wheel. I can't even take the pup for a walk because the weather, and the pup for that matter, aren't cooperating. I don't like the idea of having to hibernate my work outs, seems so counterproductive. I just spent the last week running, and ellipticaling, and suanaing myself back to my target body and now it seems like it was all for nothing. Sure I'm way more toned and ribby then I was before, and I have more energy and focus then before, and I feel great; but it's all hidden beneath coats and sweaters and I have a sweat breakout so I technically don't even "look" my best. That's the constant battle with working out: making sure your skin cooperates. The cycle goes like this: feel bad about self, work self out, sweat, look better, feel better about self, keep working out, get sweat blemish, feel bad about self, stop work out, feel bad about self....See my point. For now I can just not shave and hide it under some scruffy. I can getaway with that look for a few days. Having pent up energy made me clean my room, and I found all sorts of things I forgot about. That was cool. I caught up on my reading, for a little bit, reading really isn't a cardio replacement activity. Read the city newspaper and decided to try and make "page six" sometime soon-ish. Decided to try and get a job at Macy's, or at least a more high end retail store, because where I'm at now is getting slightly dull. Checked my bank account three times hoping somehow the numbers would go up, but they didn't. Where art thou money-o? Another question that plagueth me so. Remembered how cool Shakespeare can be. How timeless "To Catch A Thief" is. And how yummy Junior Mints are. I also have hardcore sushi cravings, but have refrained due to the severe lack of money. It'll just be that much more satisfying once I can afford some. Now I'm making a mental list of everything I have to do before leaving for work in the morning. First of which is turn on the coffee pot. If I can't count on my endorphins, I'll have to make due with my Maxwell House.