I hardly work, but I still find myself busy every stinking hot sticky day of the week. I woke up a few days ago and decided I needed to start a food truck business as soon as possible. I spent hours pouring over any information I could find online. None of it was in one place. I wrote down every possible license I’d need, every possible permit and searched for used food trucks on eBay and Craigs list.
I had an insane urge to open a food truck business – an INSANE urge. A scathing, stressful, eye-popping urge. Why did I have this toe curling, life or death asphyxiation towards starting a food truck business? Because I’m broke as shit. I can’t even cook!
I hired a financial planner, so now I can finally get a sense of how much money I have in the bank. None. Zero. Zilch. I’m one broke ass bitch.
Last month was quarterly taxes, property taxes, and I bought a plane ticket to Spain. When I realized the impending financial doom I was facing, I nearly clawed my eyes out. My answer was to open a food truck.
For at least the last 3 days I was obsessed with this food truck idea. Every moment was spent on my laptop in my hot musty room frantically pouring over my options. Did I mention I was stressed? Oh yes, there was stress.
When I wasn’t stressing about my newest venture, I went hiking up my little big mountain. I went 3 days in a row and each time I completed it, while I was walking back to my car, I didn’t have that fresh feeling of relief or accomplishment, no, I had the most rueful scowl on my face.
Me – “This is such bullshit. Fucking bullshit.”
Again, the trail has kicked my ass. I go almost everyday to hike up that god awful place, risking my precious ankles from rolling or cracking my skull open on a sharp rock (they are everywhere pointing out of the dirt like daggers!)
But it doesn’t matter how many times I attempt it, it’s not getting any easier. Granted, if it was cooler out it may be a different story. I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know. I can feel those 30 extra pounds every time I walk up that hill and have to take those large steps up the rocks – the same rocks I used to fly up 5 years ago.
Me – “I can never let myself get like this again. Never again. I have to diet God dammit.”
And when I’m not doing any of the above activities, I’ve been keeping social and hanging out with friends. Seriously, who has time to work? I’m freaking exhausted!
Tomorrow I’m stopping in at work to check the phones since my office manager isn’t there on the weekend, then hike up my big little mountain, stop at the grocery store for a snack to bring to my friends cabaret play later that day. It would be wise to not shower in the morning and to wait until after my hike. I hate showing twice in one day. I never needed to before, when I was 30 pounds lighter. I never sweat like I do now.
I keep fantasizing about how awesome I’ll look after walking across Spain. Not just look, I don’t care how I look. But I feel like a lazy fat shit is what it is. I want to feel better.
I’m trying to amp myself up for the Camino by listening to audiobooks about trekking. Right now I’m listening to Wild by Cheryl Strayed and it’s depressing the shit out of me. Much of it is about her having to deal with the loss of her mother – something I never want to think about or deal with ever in my life. The book is too wishy-washy and makes me miserable. I cried while listening to it during my hike today. That’s not invigorating.
Can you imagine seeing a 170 pound woman with a beat red face, sweating her balls off while crying into her water bottle and meandering through the woods alone? That was me today. Go on, try to picture it, I’ll wait. It’s a sad sight, see what I mean? Now picture me trying to hoist myself up over the rocks with my fat ass. Go on, picture it.
But the book did end up amping me up for the Camino. So much so that I want to go on another pilgrimage in March to Shikoku island in Japan. That one is much more expensive than the Camino but only if I stay at Minshuku’s, paid accommodations, everyday. They have free places for Henro’s (pilgrims), but you should call in advance for them and if you don’t know Japanese, you’re SOL. The biggest shit stick about trekking Shikoku is having to call accommodations in advance. At most, Shikoku will cost me $100 a day for 60 days, so $6000. The Camino costs $2000 for 40 days.
Damn, it’s already midnight. I’m going to watch the season finale of Fear the Walking Dead and go to sleep. Damn damn, I forgot I need to buy lotion for the business – there goes another $100 freaking dollars.