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USA Real Estate Blog

A.D.I.D.A.S. – All Day I Dream About Scrilla – An Injustice!

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Could anything ring more true in an economy suffering from stagnant wages and crippling personal debts? Complete transparency — I’m writing this from a pool. It’s one of the few luxuries I can’t quite afford— like organic vegetables, free-range meats, and a safe, residential community.

But I’ll die sooner than estimated from an endless supply of sugary drinks, fried, hormone-riddled livestock and hard water. Shrugs. So no big deal, right?

I dream about the moolah, the cash, the paper, the cheddar, the mozzarella, the cheese, the bread, the dough, the lettuce, the dead presidents, the quid, the loot, THE SCRILLA. Why?

Because I don’t make any decisions without consulting my anorexic bank account.

Can’t. The price of everything is going up…except my salary. And even when my finances improve, it merely matches the pace of real-time inflation.

Here’s an example. You just received a $1200 raise! Hooray! Glasses clink. “Here here!” they say.

You arrive home after boozy, fun-filled night and find a letter on your door, notifying you that your rent will increase $100 at the end of your lease. You have 90 days to acknowledge you’ve received this letter.

Three cheers for sustained poverty!

Unmasking the Truth

I dream about passive income, get-rich-quick schemes, donating blood, auctioning personal belongings, part-time jobs, sugar mamas, and robbing people. Yes, robbing people. I think about cheating the tax man; I think about borrowing a Netflix password…indefinitely; I think about eating half a meal and then implanting one of my hairs in the dish — you know why!

And for what reason? I can’t keep up. I’m part of the working class.

I have a degree. I have a job. I have a degree. I’m in school. I have a degree. I manage others.

I have a degree…and you lied to me. You failed to tell me that there are degrees of value to my degree, and that my area of study, choice of school, and degree level (associates to doctoral programs) would dramatically affect my livelihood.

I wish my income were based on my intelligence, but sadly It’s not.

I wish my income were based on merit, but it’s not.

My income is flailing about in no man’s land because my career does not generate dollars.

I’m a teacher, and am an elite member of a group known as semi-professionals. Our jobs are challenging and require skills. The catch? Our skills are considered second-rate, second-class, amateurish, and low-level. These are jobs anyone feel they can do. And yet, I earned a degree, am certified in my content area, and worked in this field for 10 years.

Given that information, many still feel they can do what I do and treat me accordingly…

Like a piece of shit.

I for an Eye

And so I contemplate my existence with The Almighty: the American dollar.

I haven’t been to church in months — and before that, maybe years. But I’ve been to a bank though, and I’ve been to its mobile app to deposit the occasional check.

I’ve been to churches with ATMs . I’ve paid hard-earned money to park my car at parks, to pay cover charges, to withdraw my own money, and to petition God for favor and financial prosperity — meaning, my heathen-ass has prayed for more scrilla.

They tell me money isn’t everything, but I’ve gambled my precious dollars to get more dollars!

Even in my sleep, even in my waking hours, I dream about the scrilla.

I’ve never seen the afterlife. All I have is right now. And money is the way you fight to live your life…unless you choose the wrong course of study, get sick, have an affinity towards parks or parking, or eating healthy food, or drinking water that isn’t poisoned, etc.

And while I’d like to be more spiritual, I don’t have the time. Speaking of, I have to go to work.

For now, my only choice is to get money and trust in the god on my currency.

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