The Great Depression

Core Cardio and Balance (Tuesday)
37 out of 37 minutes. As evenly paced as this workout is, I’m still exhausted at the end of it.

No Workout Today (Wednesday)

Core Cardio and Balance (Today)
20 out of 37 minutes. Not a good idea to eat a Sloppy Joe sandwich two hours before the workout. My heart couldn’t keep up with the workout. Tough to resist when the diner near my job only makes Sloppy Joes once every two weeks, but the lesson has been learned.

It happened in 2009. It happened again in 2010 and 2011. That feeling of hopelessness when I think about my current situation sets in and it drags me down for a day. It's like an anxiety attack when I think about how far I am from my goal. It usually happens around the end of winter or/and the beginning of summer. I never documented it before because I always felt it wasn’t necessary, but now I know better. It’s Thursday, March 22nd, 2012, and Roger has been hit with The Great Depression. This will not be a post that I will learn anything from. I’ll most likely skip over this post when I re-read my blog on a daily basis, as this will have nothing to do with business education. This post is just gonna be one... large... nonsensical... rant.

I want to retire already. I don’t want to wait until the end of next year. I hate working jobs and all the bullshit that comes with it. I hate waking up at 5:40am every damned day for the last three years just to come into this damned bank job. I absolutely abhor small talk, and the next jerk that walks by me and points out what the weather is like that day is gonna get beaten with a box of Chinese food.

(When we were kids, Brooklyn Mike and I used to make this comic where the gangs would carry Chinese food boxes in bags as weapons. They’d tuck it into their pants like guns and pull it out whenever they were about to fight. Thugs would be standing on the corner trying to look cool with Chinese food bags strapped to their jeans. One guy gets chased by Chinese-food-bag-wielding gang members and run into a Chinese food store. He would scream, “Give me an order of pork fried rice with boneless chicken! Hurry up! They’re coming!” But they wouldn’t make it in time and he would get beaten by the gang, and they’d leave him unconscious in a pool of chicken lo mein.)

What bothers me isn’t the job which I’m doing, because I don’t have to do much. What bothers me is that I don’t have a choice. I HAVE TO work these jobs to make money. I HAVE TO work with these people. I HAVE TO dress up in this cheap ass suit and wear this god-awful tie. When I was a kid I remember hating ties. I used to see my dad put one on every morning and something about it really annoyed me. It just seemed so unnecessary then and it feels even more unnecessary now. I hate that I can’t say what I want to say to whomever I wish because I could be “written-up”. Write-ups are another thing I can’t stand. I hate the way people carry themselves like they’re the princes of the universe. All these things I have to endure just to make money. Ugh! Sometimes I’m at the shipping depot working with Annabel thinking, “Did I seriously beat cancer just so I can sit here and listen to this lunatic?!”

I hate watching people go out for lunch. They walk around like in the introduction of “L.A Law”, as if they’re of some importance. If you’re really important, you wouldn’t have an allotted time to eat! I’m sick of people trying to impress me! I wanna be able to wake up whenever I want, eat whenever I want, drive wherever I want. Sometimes I’m on the highway going to work and I would wish that I could take the next exit and drive to Brooklyn. I wanna make money my way and not have to wait for a paycheck. I wanna take vacations and come back whenever I feel like it. I wanna come to work in my own office that has a big screen TV hooked up to a Playstation 3 and an office computer, and I wanna wear teenage mutant ninja turtle slippers and pajamas to work!

Well, I certainly feel better. Look, all my hopes and “wannas” require money. I know all this paycheck work is a means to an end, I get that. I’m also aware that, after today, this feeling of exhaustion and anxiety will pass and I’ll be back to normal. I get the feeling that, once I obtain my first commercial property before the end of this summer, I won’t have these feelings anymore, or at least not as intense. Purchasing that property will make it a reality that my time working jobs for money won’t be forever. Right now, it’s just a hope.