I can’t write. I brought my laptop to work and now I’m sitting here listening to my hispanic worker talking about her crazy shenanigans with her boyfriend.
“Why would he be driving off in MY car with a man who has money on his head? He know’s people want him dead. He know’s there’s a hit man after him and he’s driving around in MY car with my kids carseats thrown in the back and some girl in the front seat.”
Me – “That’s shit.”
“She don’t need to be driving around in the front seat with him. Why was she in the front seat? I jumped on that car like a spider monkey and sucker punched him in the face through the window.”
She showed me some bruises on her arm.
Me – “Then what happened?”
“He drove off speeding and weaving in and out of traffic in MY car.”
Me – “Did you report the car stolen?”
“Yeah I went to the police but they said it has to be missing for 24 hours before I can do anything. It’s because I let him borrow it for work so I had to wait to report it stolen.”
I know it’s bad to stereotype, I know, but she’s just like someone you’d see in a movie. Super cute with her big hoop earrings, her hair always done up in different styles and that spunky Latina accent. She looks like a young Janet Jackson but sounds like Rosy Perez. Last week she told me about a high-speed police chase she and her boyfriend were in.
Okay, I’m home now. Laying in bed watching It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.
I was on top of the world yesterday. I was up to 96 members, a good hefty sum of money in my bank account even after having spent thousands of frivolous dollars this month, and my new employee who’s taking over most of my shifts starts this week – yes on top of the world. That is until I glanced at my bank account two hours ago to see that the IRS had taken out $1,200.
The thing is, I don’t want to work anymore. That’s my ultimate goal. And with the start of my fifth employee, I’ll now be working Wednesday evenings, every other Saturday from 11-3, and I’m still working freaking doubles every Sunday – but that’s it. That’s my work load until I reach 115 members and my new employee can assume the rest of my shifts. I’ll be “by request only.” All my favorite clients already have my cell phone number to text me for appointments.
I have to rely heavily on my employee’s to rake in dough while I’m not there.
I know that 96 members sounds like a lot, but once you factor everything in, 96 members will only cover the cost of my workers and little else. I sell 40 Groupons a month which pays for most of the rent, but all other bills and stupid taxes are not yet covered. As long as I make at least $80 a day, I’m good – but now that I’m hardly working anymore, it’s going to be a constant struggle in hoping that my little stinkers hit $80 a day.
Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t be worried, every day I sell more and more memberships, but I’m planning a month long trip to Thailand in December. It all comes down to another crunch. I’ll need at least 135 members by December to pull off Thailand.
And that’s the most of my worries. Well, there’s that and I sliced open my finger last night while putting together a cabinet I bought from Ikea. I spent $300 without batting an eye on a new cabinet to store all my shit in.
I’m a fanatic when it comes to feng shui and my money corner is way too cluttered with junk.
$300 on a new cabinet, $500 for a plane ticket to Minnesota, $300 to advertise in the Bargain Book, $300 for peel ads in the Record Journal, $200 for regular ads in the Record Journal….I spent $1600 this month plus the $1200 in taxes – that’s $2800 I spent towards things that aren’t accounted for – meaning, they aren’t part of my regular monthly spending. That’s a lot!
And that’s another big reason why I don’t want to work anymore. I mainly massage member clients now – that’s $50 an hour plus a tip between $10 – $20. Making $70 an hour doesn’t seem like a whole lotta shabam anymore. I massaged 3 members today and a woman with a birthday coupon – that’s over $200 for 4.5 hours of hands-on work which sounds like a lot, but it’s not. Not compared to how much I actually need to make. But then add on the members that my employee’s massaged today and that tacks on another $150. Now we’re talking.
It’s like if a person cuts the grass and trims the hedges of their own million dollar mansion just to save a few bucks. It wouldn’t be worth the effort unless they actually took pride and enjoyed it.
And that’s the thing isn’t it? I don’t enjoy it. I NEVER enjoyed it. And I find it hard to believe that people actually DO enjoy it. Are they kidding themselves? I mean really….
As you can see, I’m becoming greedy. Greedy out of fear. Fear that I may have to keep working just like my father. Keep working with nothing but Ikea cabinets to show for it.
Perhaps greed doesn’t stem from over-indulgence or power. Maybe it’s just fear of losing everything. Maybe the fear of having nothing causes greed. Well, that’s in my case at least.
I salivate at new member sign-ups. With each sign-up, I chip away at that $80 quota I have to make every day. Once that $80 hits zero, would I still yearn for more? Or would I indulge in a life of travel and leisure? To not give a shit about anything anymore? Would my greed sickness be remedied with 40 more sign-ups?
And now it’s 1 A.M. I have to be up early tomorrow for a regular client. But then I can come home and nap after.
I think I’m mistaking worry for greed. I’m worried, but I really shouldn’t be. I’m worried I won’t be able to go to Thailand – what kind of ridiculousness is that?
I can’t believe how high on life I was yesterday and tonight is just the opposite. I am so freaking lucky compared to others. This blog entry is shit, I’m a shit. I still have to write about my trip to Ecuador.
I’m genuinely curious to see my behavior after I sell 40 more memberships. Will greed corrupt me or would I finally exhale? Stay tuned!