My old 9-5 job called me this morning and requested that I come back to work with them. I had a year-long contract with them, so I was neither fired, nor did I quit. I threw it around in my mind for a hot minute, (as, ironically enough, I dished out 900 bucks for a car repair this morning, and thought back to the days where I didn’t struggle to make ends meet, and Ah, eureka, they call me and want me back!) but then I went back to my core beliefs - I’d rather be broke and happy, with time for the people I love, waking up in the morning looking FORWARD to going to work, with the ability to look the way I want, and use my one talent all day long/simultaneously have a great creative outlet, spending the days with co-workers I enjoy…five minutes from my house, than be loaded and miserable, being entirely too exhausted when I get home at night, neglecting my friends and family, being stressed out, changing the way I look to fit in somewhere I don’t belong in the first place, driving two hours a day, sometimes, into another state, and coming home to complain about how much of a soul-less shred of seaweed I’m becoming. The only benefit besides the money is that they have this BANGIN’ chinese place down the road, and I’d be able to afford the tattoos that I want. Talk about first world problems… I’d much rather be my content, broke-ass self than look back in ten years and realized I wasted the best days of my life as a fucking Squidward.
And in case I try to change my mind, I linked these two rants about the aforementioned 9-5, written when I was working there, this way I don’t paint the past with gold due to money:@2 months ago with 1 note