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30 And Broke

Posted on November 11, 2018 in Uncategorized

2016 has been quite a year, literally a bit too much for me to handle. If I accumulate all my past professional, personal and social experiences, and grind them into a big smoothie, it’ll still seem bland in front of the experience I’ve gathered in this year and this year alone. Before I go bashing myself for getting into a soul-strangling mess, let me praise myself a bit. I do deserve some praise. After all, it does take a lot of courage to leave behind everything you’ve worked for and move to a new country with hopes of making it big.

Let me break this down:

City Girl Moves to Another City? Shouldn’t be a Tough Transition?

Moving to another city, how bad can it be? Hey she still knows how to blend in the fast-paced city life, she still has an idea of what to expect! My bad, I underestimated the transition in more ways than one. Another city is so not “just” another city. It’s a whole new world! The people, the culture, the rules and regulations, everything is nothing you would expect. With such minimal knowledge and know-how, I messed up right off the bat.

The Dirty Dating Games

Not only did I leave behind my job, home and family, I also let go of all affiliations I had with my former boyfriend. I wanted to explore the dating territory in a new place among unfamiliar homo sapiens. Most women are wired to want love, to find a husband and create adorable babies. I’m no different! Moving out was motivated by not just career-oriented aspirations, but also love and marriage. I wanted to experience it all. Unfortunately, dating as a newbie came with devastating results. Countless dates started at coffee tables and conveniently ended there. Finding “the one” took me nine months and two dozen cringeworthy dates.

Money! Now You See Me, Now You Don’t!

Let me explain the financial disaster show I am currently hosting. I am broke because I have no job, I lost my job because I wasn’t paid for months. Yes, my previous employers stopped paying, period! Oh and I forgot to mention the psychological trauma that came with non-payments. I took matters into my own hands and exercised my legal rights to not work for free. Now here I am, 3 months into unemployment, living off a tiny income which barely covers my rent.

What makes my matter worse is limited availability of resources. Financial resources are eventually going to run out. I’ve somehow managed to rack up a huge credit card bill? When and how did that happen is a question I often ask myself. And retail therapy is the answer I conveniently provide to sooth my aching existence. Funny thing is, I’ve managed to convince myself that I am depressed because I am broke and that is why I need to spend on me to make myself feel better. I basically went around indulging in retail therapy with money I didn’t own.

Where’s The Glory in Being Independent?

How do I begin my day? There is no beginning or end. There is no schedule. I won’t deny the fact that being unemployed comes with the privilege of endless sleep hours. I can sleep till noon, stay up all night and watch movies all day long!

But there’s no glory in being unemployed. There comes a point when you begin to feel like a loser. You feel worthless. So here I am, living independently, struggling to make ends meet and fighting to keep my sanity intact. I hear people tell me how lucky I am to be here on my own with complete freedom to make my own decisions. The truth is far from all the good. Life is beating me down and I keep swinging back like a blind, mad woman, hoping to crack that imaginary piƱata and hit a jackpot!