September 16, 2016
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moved post
Don't get too excited. I'm trying to see if, by actually moving my blog over to blogger, I will write more. With so much time on the road, I've been longing for a blog that actually has mobile capabilities. Let's just see how it goes.
Tonight, I am working what is known as an "all-nighter." They are pretty easy if you like feeling like a vampire. You work the last flight out of the night and then one of the first flights back in the morning. That's it. Just two legs with everyone sleeping. They are easy to pick up and easy to drop because of time-legality parameters. Its a good way to crush your sleep cycle for 6 hrs of pay. That's 6 hrs of pay and no need for a dog-sitter.
I've been feeling a bit financially insecure lately so my natural reaction is just to work myself to the bone. What else can one do? After this trip I will have worked 12 straight calendar days in a row. That's not to say I haven't had 24 hrs in between some trips, but...
Why? My lifestyle is about to change. For the better, but change always rattles me so much. I have four roommates right now in my 2nd bedroom. This is known as a crashpad in the industry. A crashpad is a place you sleep 1-2 nights a week between flights when you commute to your base airport from another city. Over the past three plus years of running this operation I have had the "pleasure" of living with 12 different people (I might be missing a few). I've probably actually liked only about half of them. I have had enough of this. Since my longest standing roommate is moving out, I decided to downsize to just one roommate. You know, the way normal people live. This is all happening in October. I will actually collect less rent than I do now, but I imagine the luxury of not having so many randoms in my living space will be worth it. That doesn't mean that everyone is paying me though. I'm tired of others' financially folly becoming my problem. And so, off to work with me.
Also, there is pressure from the voices inside and outside of my head to buy a house. Why must I strive? I'm not sure it will ever happen, but the fantasy of having a garden lingers. If only my boyfriend's "language of love" was the one where he gives you money.... then maybe I wouldn't feel so insecure and alone. That's strictly financially speaking, of course.
Yeah right. Who am I kidding?
