real shit, real spit.
i'm broke, dead broke, like all the time. like i am technically in the negative. but people don't understand that, my social media accounts do in fact look glamorous, and to an extent my life is glamorous.
i have running water and electricity in my home. those are bills i wouldn't be able to pay without my roommates struggling alongside me. i do go places often, and i see many magnificent things. but at least 70% of the time i don't pay for these things. i'm wearing clothes that some company gave me for free advertising, i've carpooled with friends packed so tight we each only pay $5-10 in gas or someone drove and someone else packed snacks kind of thing. we barter snacks and services by trade, we plan ahead and work together. i'm using gear that i own, have owned, and will continue to use. i manage in my life because i have a tribe.
when i moved in with two of my best friends, we didn't all plan on moving into a home together, we planned on being a family and we moved like one would. we all arranged our possessions in each others vehicles so that we could manage everything we needed, we make meals together and we make sure that we set aside time for us. it's not always perfect, at first, i'd been rather bitchy when we moved, the stress of my initial job not being what it promised was overwhelming, and while these wonderful women are there for me, they just couldn’t replace the feeling of having family to visit or send care packages, it was hard and made me a rather cranky human-being to watch that and feel not really jealous, but like i was missing out...but we decided to be family, so despite stresses and disagreements, we still place our friendship first and love above all. and i am so grateful for that, because it takes a sisterly kind of love to work your way back to the good times.
even so, there is still individual struggle. the number one question i get asked, aside from the moderately threatening where i live, is what i do.
when i moved to colorado, i transferred jobs as a barista, and planned to pick up new yoga studios to teach at when i arrived. so here's what really happened; i transferred, the work did not fit the description promised. yoga studios are a little pretentious here, i have to get in good with the employees rather than show what i can do. f*ck me. i've been eating ramen, instant oatmeal, and tuna packs that i share with my dog. what a life, and yet, people who don't know nor see my struggle message me how, "it must be nice to be so privileged," and my roommates have to calm me because it makes me hostile. i’ve been busting my ass writing and approaching companies to just buy an article. some months i’ve barely made rent, and others i’ve had to make up for what i didn’t make the month before. side note: i just got a new consistent job, fingers crossed i can afford real dog food and fresh baked bread soon!
it's not impossible to do what you love and still make a living. we, as a house, are surviving using the four-for-a-dollar canned veggies and ten cent ramen for meals so that we can pay our medical bills, student loans, general debts. so, yeah, we are fabulous, ghetto fabulous, but fabulous none the less.