So I write about writers the other day, and why I think some writers are having a tough time of it, and I , of course, come off as a total dick. Well, I pretty much am a total dick, sorry.
But not two days later I find out an internet friend, a freelance writer, is having a really tough time of it. He, like me, took a few months off, but unlike me people still read his site. That costs money. He also doesn't have a job to suck the life out of him, he has some sort of weird internet succubus who's been trolling his site for ages, making the comments section, once a wild free-for-all; funny, witty and (except for my comments) pretty much on topic and smart. I contributed nothing but non-sequiturs, misused commas and dick jokes, but I don't think I was ever a troll.
So now he's in tough financial straights, and I'm in no position to help out. I know he didn't read my screed, but I feel bad for being a cock anyway. It's out of jealousy, really. Believe me, if I ever had his chops...well, I don't, no use pretending.
At any rate, he's a contributor at the QOR. If you can pony up to join, do it. I wish I could.
Here's why I can't, ie. my list of excuses. I have four kids, each of whom can eat corn on the cob through a picket fence, I took a pay cut and lost my car allowance, I've been Dave Ramseyfied for over five years and the money's not in the budget, we just paid off the Kia three years early so we can put the car payment in our destroyed retirement accounts, I've got to finish paying off the loan for the addition we put on, and did I mention the four kids?
After all of that bitching I do have to say that I do realize that I'm very lucky to still have a job (so far) and also to have a wife who still does the books like we're broke-ass kids. It's a blessing to have been a broke-ass kid with a shitty job, a wife at home, and a baby when all of my friends were living large on their dual-incomes and credit cards. Because we know how to do it now, and I know exactly what generic over the counter medicines to take to ward off a bleeding ulcer should we find ourselves back in that position. As I'm sure we will again someday.
So yeah, I was a jerk. But you know what? If I hadn't have married the person I married, and hadn't spent the first eight or ten years of my marriage on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and wasn't an incredibly stubborn son of a bitch, I'd be in the same boat as the people I ragged on. So really, I was just ragging on my id. Trust me on that.