Double Birthdays, Pots of Gold

Friday, February 22nd marked the first birthday of my younger pup, who coincidentally, was born on the same day as George Washington, 280 years later. I noticed this little star alignment and laughed when I first met my new pup in April. George Washington has seen my pussy more than any other man on the planet. Nearly 8,000 one dollar bills were put in my garter in exchange for boobie grabs and flashing strangers last year. 

The pup and I celebrated by taking her special birthday walk for about two minutes in the fresh snow, and by shopping for the nearly indestructible and quite expensive toys that the “kids” don’t get very often. She picked a frog that says “RIBBIT” over and over, and a gigantic blue dragon ill-suited to her seven-pound frame. We picked a brown memory foam kennel bed, and enormous cinnamon roll dog cookies, and called it a day. I didn’t really have the money to blow on her toys, but I can’t imagine not making each dog’s birthday fun and special — for me, if nothing else.

In other news, I quit my job at the stables an hour before I was supposed to start my second day. I wasn’t sure I could handle going back to the club and working at the stables, and making eight bucks an hour in a freezing winter as a trade off for all of the running I could do didn’t make sense to me. I called and explained, apologized over and over for wasting her time finding a viable candidate for the job, and she wasn’t altogether unhappy. 

I was.

It feels like I’m not employable. If I take another job, I can’t make enough money to quit the club. If I work both, chances are pretty high that I’ll oversleep one or both frequently from trying to keep two different schedules. I’m under-educated for anything that pays well enough to quit, and my student loan debt from three years of school and lack of direction is keeping me from acquiring that pretty-necessary education.

It’s becoming an endless cycle. I need more money so I can pay off more debt so I can acquire more debt so I can need more money so I can pay off that debt…and somehow it’s all supposed to lead to a job that doesn’t have an expiration date in my early thirties or with my next major injury.

What I need is to win the lottery that I never play. Or find a multimillionaire customer to pay for two schools, living expenses, a spending stipend, and a brand-new car. Or to find a pot of gold in all of this, somewhere. With my luck, it’s probably hiding on the smoking patio, since I haven’t been out there in sixteen months. Or it’s hiding at the bottom of the laundry bin — a place I go through only with eyes closed, fingers crossed, and as fast as possible.

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~ by The Stiletto-Shod One on February 27, 2013.

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