51 Weeks, 0 Days.
I feel like I’ve been the busiest to earn the least amount of money. I expected three small paychecks that would equal my rent but received only one. I was prepared to spend the next two weeks broke. I could barely afford to pay rent.
But then… I got paid for an article I sent.
No word if the article got accepted, but I got paid. It probably means that it did get accepted and I should start working on the next ones.
And I have a couple of missions. Two photo missions. One writing mission. Another writing mission I feel like I should do and then a massive writing mission.
My book.
Or so what I call my book.
One week from now is the anniversary of my mother’s passing.
I told my therapist that I’ve been feeling happier, but guilty about it. Of course, my mother would want me happy. But it makes me sad that I can be happy without her. I miss her so damn much. It’s just stupid still.
Life still feels different.
And it’s been already a year.
Well… 51 fucking weeks.
Next week, exactly on the anniversary, I booked a tour. I didn’t think of the date. I was thinking I was going to be broke so I needed to make money somehow. I got emailed for a tour, I was hesitant, but accepted.
Then another email for another tour. This time it’s a bachelor party. The ones I’m trying to avoid…
But he seems cool and not really into the strip club thing. And the party includes three women (weird for a bachelor party). So it should be more of the normal tour that I am used too.
Tours again.
2020 is the year when I do tours again.
It’s been a couple of years. But it is time for me to do tours again. Be more expensive. Should be fine.
I got invited to do tours with a hotel through a corporate thingy.
I’m going to reject it.
I like being independent.
And from the tours, I wrote the supposed book.
I wrote it a couple of years ago. A lot of it still rings true today. I’m still broke though I make more money, I started paying my student loans back and not having a roommate = double in rent, and having a car = a lot of more expenses that I used to not have and I need to save money so I can fix my car and I need to stop using so many ands when I’m typing stupid shit and finish a paragraph with more than just one long-ass sentence because of the extreme use of ands.
Oh yeah.
New cover.
And next week it should be another of my cover shots.
The week after that is not my cover. And the week after that is probably not my cover. But the week after that will be my cover (I think). And after that, it’s grey territory but it should also be my covers a few more times. And I will write more cover stories.
I discovered new tacos on Thursday. Well… I already knew about them, but this girl took me for the first time. Tacos el Vaquero. They are fucking fantastic. Super expensive, but really good.
I was broke then, she paid. I was broke Friday morning as well and I had no gas for hot water or cooking. The last money in my wallet went to pay for gas.
I wanted to blog yesterday. I didn’t.
I got that emailed that I got paid. And I felt good. I played a lot of Starcraft. Content with myself I went out for beers and food. Content with myself I came back and played more Starcraft.
Thursday, though broke, I still went bowling.
Though my back hurt, I still played 6 games.
112-115-118-133-131-166 for an average of 129. 20 below the average I want. But that last game felt good.
I did my delivery that Thursday.
Just as I was putting on my pajamas, a girl hit me up about going out for a beer. I told her if she picked me up. She did. We had beer and tacos and flirted. But nothing happened. She doesn’t like me but has no other choice. That’s somewhat sad.
Wednesday was office time. I didn’t have Luigis like I always have Luigis. Nah. I went to target to try to exchange BotW for Mariokart. They were out of Mariokarts. I was forced to get a Target gift card.
My car is eating shit.
Or more like she pisses oil.
I got to fill her up with oil before driving every morning. My mechanic said it was going to be an expensive fix.
Oh yeah.
Someone online threatened me to send me the Crips. Some chef of a fancy restaurant called “Cocina Pirata.” That drama was hilarious. His fucking sponsor post came on my feed. I shouldn’t do this, but when sponsored posts are shit… I comment.
And I only commented “jaja que mamada.” The post was a blurry picture of a plate with 4 thin slices of tuna and some sauce. The plate was mostly empty, the photo was dark, and the focus was on the side of the tuna. The caption said something like “the world gives us, we create.”
The most circle jerk description I have ever read.
Instead of ignoring the post, the restaurant replied talking shit.
Intrigued, I went to see what the restaurant was about. That’s when I read the most pretentious cringy restaurant description ever. I took a screencap, made fun of it in my story, and forgot about it (went back to playing Starcraft).
While playing Starcraft… I got a response from the chef’s personal account. It was fucking HILARIOUS. Dude was literally threatening me over an Instagram comment and a post. It wasn’t even that bad of a comment. Imagine when the real trolls come through. The worst thing you can do in social media is to respond like that. Of course, I took screencaps. I still think of blasting him on full display with the screencaps in my TJ adventure account.
And seriously, am I supposed to be afraid of this dude?
It still makes me laugh.
And I still played Starcraft and won though my mind was just thinking of the ridiculous shit the chef sent me.
AND!!!
The one thing I really wanted to blog about and haven’t.
My fucking book.
I’m polishing the fuck out of it. I did a sexy photoshoot with a model at Norte Brewing Co for it. It went great. The pictures are fantastic. I hired a designer for a cover. I’m not paying her. But I will if it makes any money.
Chad has finally agreed to do some editing after I edit the edit and edit that edit and then edit that edit some more.
I don’t like it. But I’m editing the fuck out of it…
It goes on Amazon on January 20, 2020, for $6.64.
That’s the idea. That’s in 9 days.
It should be fine.
From the scares of self-publishing books, is the marketing aspect of it. Other writers that try to self-publish rarely blog. They rarely even have social media connections. Those basic things I got.
So my social media will be annoying people about my book for a while.
My predictions, it will sell at least 100 copies.
My fantasy, it will sell over 10,000.
HAH!
Can you imagine?!
I can…
It’s a fantasy… but it’s a nice fantasy to have.
I’m behind in a lot of things and I’m still creating new things to be busy with and also spend most my time playing BotW and Starcraft and drinking.
Matingas 