I’m stressed about money. I hate that feeling. I really thought I’d have the money thing figured out by this point in my life. I’m almost forty, I shouldn’t be getting behind on utility payments.

The problem with the piecework freelance system I have, where I earn exactly as much as I produce and nothing more, is that I try to convince myself that I’m producing at top speed and top quality all the time. But I’m not, I never have been, nobody else ever has been, it’s not possible. Even assuming I never get sick and I never get tired and I never get old, I still can’t crank these articles out fast enough to make as much as my family needs. Problemz.

It’ll be better when Gewel gets out of school, because that woman is a serious earner, but that’s still a year from now. All I have to do is keep us afloat for another year, and that shouldn’t be too hard.

But man, another year sitting in front of a computer tapping away at lawyer blogs…it’s better than a real job, sure. But if I’m so smart you’d think I could think of something smarter.

I want to be taking my family on vacations to cool and educational places, not fighting a rear-guard action to keep the faucet running. This is bullshit.