Write a book

Well I am going to write a book. I want to write a book. I want to be famous and wealthy and free. My sister is going to Vermont to be with my parents. We can't afford it. I feel bad. I can't do the things we used to do. Can't afford them. Isadora is trying to maintain our dwindling savings account.

I keep thinking I need to strike out on my own but then I become an independent stress bucket.

Reeve our new consultant is an independent consultant. He is a master of masking his feelings. Trying to read him. Sometimes I just think he is just lazy and sneaky. He makes $2000 a day. That's how desperate we were. If he works 11 months this year...he has made himself $440,000.

What am I doing.

If I maintain my current lifestyle and pull in $440,000...that is $140,000 more than I am currently making. $300,000 goes into savings. 3 years and I am millionaire.

I am just subsisting. Why? Because I am afraid and this life is cushy. I know I will have a job tommorrow. I know I will have a paycheck. I take a day off and get paid. As long as I am performing at an above average rate...i am fine.

Put your resume out. See if anyone bites.