It just gets harder every day 😩
Every day, I just feel like everything is getting older, falling apart, wearing out. The incident last week were my trash can lid blew off again in the windy stormy weather on Tuesday, got hit for a third or forth time, and this time really damaged, was such a set back in my life. It sounds silly, but it really was pretty bad, with so much things weighting me down. I really need to take some broken things that are garbage and bottles and cans to recycling center. As they say, you can’t burn everything.
On paper, things I doing well in my life, I finally have that mid-level executive position with a good paycheck. I have a corner office, the nice wooden desk with a brass lamp. Often the investigations we do and I coordinate with staff are quite interesting, often challenging but interesting at the same time. I make pretty good money, even though most of the money lately seems to go towards tax and paying the rent, that is after I try to put a little away for a better tomorrow.
I have a vision and a hope for a better tomorrow. Every time I save with each paycheck, I know I am coming closer to that dream, but I have increasing concerns that I might not be reachable. Not for a lack of money, although it is hard to grow savings lately with the interest rate so low, and the markets in the crapper. But because maybe it never was a realistic option in the first place. Time goes by, money grows, that’s all the ever seems to change in my life. My apartment is cold and miserable. The buses are still the same, the winters long and harsh.
Someday, I know I will own my own land. If I can only get there. But money grows so slowly, while expenses on everything else grows quickly. Having more money at work hasn’t made life better or me happier, but it has somewhat increased the rate at which I’ve been able to save and invest. Yet, it still seems like the dream of the homestead, living off-grid, out in the country, remains so far away. It just seems like I am still stuck here in Delmar, in my cold apartment, riding the bus back and forth to work.
Like clockwork, the seasons will change, I’ll be able to once again sleep with the windows open. I’ll be able to regularly get out of town, have fires up in the woods. Pass the time, maybe without much meaning. Get closer to that dream, a world of cowboys and cabins, homesteaders and off-griders that I watch on Youtube, although not as much as I once did as the dream fades. Places where you can own whatever guns you want, shoot them, have fires and burn whatever you want. The west is still a lot more wild then back east.
Who knows what next year brings. I’m completely horrified that I will be 40 next year. Yes, I’ve worked hard to get where I am professionally, but who knows what that will bring. I don’t even know if my job will last that long — although I work hard, produce good results, and know if I apply myself, there will be other opportunities available. And maybe if I do move to a different career, it will be a chance to move somewhat else, build the life I actually want. Saving and investing money is fine, but money is just a number unless you turn it into land, a tractor, chain saw, or a manure spreader.
