I felt like such a dumbass for going to the E.R. only to need TWO stitches. But better safe than sorry, I figured. Plus, I had insurance so it wouldn’t be great but it wouldn’t break the bank.
I got a new job. I started last week. It’s a manager position. That’s something to get excited about. So why have I come home every night and gone straight to bed to sleep off a headache, or grabbed so much food that I know I’ve eaten myself a little closer to death, or tried desperately to avoid writing this (or anything)?
The old adage “Money can’t buy happiness” repeats in my head quite often these days. I’m on the search for a new job to do the same thing I was doing to keep making money to be secure to keep doing the same thing I was doing (rinse, repeat). But what about happiness? I used to think that adage was, quite frankly, bullshit. Rich people can be unhappy. But that’s because they caught up in rich people drama.