Cash Broke Life: What is Your Net Worth?

Last week I was the most “cash broke” I have ever been in my life.

I am not afraid to say that, mostly because it’s the full truth, nonetheless not having cash always leaves you needing, well, cash.

I needed it badly.

To be fair and less dramatic on Monday of last week my entire net worth was about $20. That lasted me till Wednesday. I was without cash for two days; that is until some favorable blessings came my way.

I woke up Thursday morning completely broke. I think I had like two quarters on my nightstand.

I was hungry. Oatmeal and coffee alone didn’t suffice, and I didn’t want this to be my diet for the rest of the day.

When lunch came around I had nothing to eat, and no money to go buy something, I was pretty bummed, hungry and annoyed. I decided I would clean my room then do some writing and take a nap. I had plans to see my parents later in the day and as immature as it sounds, I figured I could hold off till I had my hands on the contents of their refrigerator.

While cleaning my apartment I found something I had previously purchased that I had planned to return months ago, but never did.

I searched through the bag and found the receipt which read:

GOOD FOR RETURNS UNTIL 04/26/13.

The amount of the return would be about $14.

Suddenly I had enough money for two meals and some snacks, in my mind I was golden.

I finished cleaning my room up, showered and headed out. About midway through my trip I looked at the bag in the passenger seat and began laughing.

Here I was driving to a store to return something so I could have some cash, I told myself I had better moments in life to remember, but as long as I am laughing about this now I am in pretty good shape. It was kind of funny anyway.

I arrived at the store to find the return line littered with people who by the looks of it were doing the same thing I was attempting to do. (maybe not, but the thought made me feel better and less poor)

I was hungry, anxious and I had to keep telling myself “patience” until it was finally my turn.

The guy who helped me took my receipt and scanned the products before asking,

“Do you want this on your VISA or store credit?”

Now naturally the VISA would have been fine, but the debit card I used for this purchase was no longer active. I had to reissue it after losing the card and unfortunately the funds needing to be returned could not be put on the new card.

Of course store credit would have worked had I not spent every last cent of that $14 in my head already.

When I was informed of this dilemma, the first thought that ran through my head was, “ummm I just wasted about two miles of gas coming here and I will be leaving without money and still hungry. This is shitty”

I informed the cashier, “I’d have no problem in taking a store credit, but I don’t shop here ever and would never use it, I don’t mean to be difficult but is there anyway you could help me out?”

Let me just say that this cashier was a nice dude from the start. He leaned over and asked his manager if there was anything else he could do, his manager not in any hurry to help me out said, “I don’t know, if it doesn’t give you option to give him cash then you cant do it.”

The smartass in me wanted to say something clever, anything. Instead I kept my patience, while this cool cashier said he would try to run the merchandise without a receipt to see if the option would come up.

Fortunately for me, the option to “refund cash” did come up. I over thanked the dude, who was gracious and understanding, but probably wondered, “I just got you $14 bucks dude, I didn’t cure cancer.”

I walked out of that store and out loud with the biggest smile on my face repeated the phrase “holy shit that was absolutely so fucking cool, wow huge blessing, huge swing in my favor.”

I received a weird look, but at that point I was beyond content and could careless about how “crackheadish” I seemed.

Suddenly I felt richer than ever. I had imagined receiving the $14 without issue, and in a moment of uncertainty was told that wouldn’t be possible, only for it TOO actually workout; talk about an emotional roller coaster. It was like winning twice.

It gets better.

As I sat in my car I had already made plans of  how to make this $14 expire, and then I realized I had no gas.

The “low gas” light was on, and paranoia of “running out of gas” began to set in, not too mention the realization that putting gas in the car would cause a significant dent in my newfound net worth, which including those two quarters was currently at $14.50.

I wondered what to do until….

I had come to a solution!

I would embarrassingly put $5 in my car for gas.

This would get me home to my parent’s house, and still leave me enough money for one meal.

After waiting for the window to clear I nervously approached this gas station cashier and nearly laughing asked, “could I get $5 on No. 2?”

Thankfully the cashier didn’t make me feel anymore embarrassed than I already felt. I wondered while putting gas if gambling could rival how fast that $5 seem to disappear at the pump.

I took my $9 and decided I could crush a ton of Taco Bell. I spent about $7 and some change. I held off on a drink being extra careful with my idea of “budgeting.” I decided to buy a soda at the vending machine instead of overpaying for ice at Taco Bell. (hey-00000)

With my last dollar and change I went to the vending machine. A man was filling up the machine and I asked him if I could buy a soda while he was filling it up. He handed it me and as I handed him my “payment” he stiff-armed me and said it was “ok.”

Free soda??? HUGE!

I over thanked him like three times, and went shouting down the hallway of my apartment proclaiming, “I am so blessed!”

I sat in my room shortly after doing some writing, eating, and TV watching. In excitement I found myself every five minutes muttering some version of the following statement:

“Woke up starving, started cleaning found a solution, went on a mission and after all is said and done I have gas, a full belly and a dollar to get some gummy bears before I head to West Covina, who has got it better than me?”

Seriously though… who does have it better than me?

Dreams Are for Those Who Sleep. I Am Trying to Make Memories.

“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”

-Mark Twain

Who isn’t terrified of death at some point in their life right?

I would always wonder to myself when I was a kid:

“Please God, I don’t want to die ever, I want to keep living.”

I didn’t care what my teacher’s said, or what a pastor said in church about Heaven, I was still scared to die.

I think a mixture of movies is what made me scared of death as a kid. As I have matured I think “ways to die” scare me the most now, but even then life is what you allow it to be right?

I don’t pretend to be the bravest or most courageous man in the world, but I do not fear death the way I once did, and I think a lot of this has to do with not fearing life either.

I use to have this feeling of “missing out.” The idea of sleeping longer than six hours a night seemed like a way to waste life.

If we are lucky we might get 100 years of life, if we are really lucky we might get 100 years of healthy life.

I want 200 years of healthy life (I swear I am humble!), but I have finally come to understand that God ultimately has a plan for me, and I don’t doubt that if I were “to go” at 199 years-old there would be a reason. I would probably want to ask why I couldn’t get that last year, but I would be completely fine with any answer I received, of course that is if God did let me ask such a preposterous question.

I can see it now, as I wait in line to have a chance to speak with God.

Guy in Front of Me: So what are you going to ask God? I mean I am excited to find out if aliens are real. What about you?

Me: Yeah no kidding aliens are a crazy thing to wonder about, but uhh me personally, well I wanted to be 200 years old and last night I went to bed 199 and woke up in this line. I am just trying to figure out what happened, you know?

I am sure I would get bashed for this, but you get the point. Haha

Another reason I think I was afraid to die, was because everyday for the past 25 years I have felt like everything I was doing was a means to “past time” until I could do what I loved.

When I turned 25 in October, I realized that the only thing “moving on up in the world” was my age.

You know what sucks about wanting to be a musician, artist or a writer?

If you aren’t getting paid to do it, the rest of the world thinks you are a wannabe.

Not that I base decisions on what the rest of the world thinks, but it is hard to answer, “I am a writer” when asked, “what do you do?” if you aren’t getting paid to do “it.”

While I do think talents get you far, having the right people in your life makes a huge difference as well. I was blessed with a great family, no question.

Though I cant forget my loving friends either, as few as they might be. I cant tell you how many times in the past people would ask me what I did, and friends would answer for me and say:

“He is a writer.”

That may sound trivial, but when you deal with self-doubt on a daily basis, getting reassurance from someone who doesn’t owe you anything is a great feeling.

Even if I am not epic or rich, I still feel I have made it.

I remember as a kid not having ambition to do anything but please my parents, i.e. if they wanted me to go to school to become something I would do it. The thing with my parents is they never forced their kids to do anything “we” didn’t want to do. Instead they always encouraged us to try anything we wanted to try, with only a couple stipulations.

     

1.       Give it your all, put your heart into everything you do.
2.       Don’t ever quit.

I wake up every morning to write and research all day. My eyes are constantly bloodshot from being tired, but when I lay down to get my six hours every night, I feel pure elation knowing what I have to wake up too every morning.

I can proudly proclaim to the world “I AM A WRITER” and when they ask who I work for, I get to say:

“I just started my own content creation business, we are small but we are picking up some steam.”

I have worked for some shitty people in my life. Now, the only boss I have is “Mark Montes Jr.” and the only people I have to worry about pleasing professionally, are clients who seek out my assistance in helping create content for whatever they need.

The best part is, this is just the beginning, I cant settle, the ambition, my aspirations, and my unwillingness to concede any ground is what sets me apart from the rest of the pretend artists.

I don’t plan on ever being the guy at 48 who says, “I am an aspiring writer.”(Not that there is a problem with that, but for me that wont be good enough)

I will be the 48-year-old man, who is a successfully accomplished writer. I know this because they will need to take me out or lock me up before I ever quit. I will use every gift so graciously bestowed upon me by God, to win every client, editor, publisher and critic over.

I can’t fail, not because I am perfect.

I can’t fail, because I refuse to surrender.

Robert E. Lee before surrendering to Grant at Appomattox said:

“There is nothing left for me but to go and see General Grant, and I would rather die a thousand deaths”

I will die two thousand deaths before I ever placate somebody who isn’t worthy of it.

I will die three thousand deaths before I ever work for someone who condescends to speak to me, without proper reasoning (yell at me and tell me I suck, but tell me why.)

And if I ever have to set an alarm clock…. Well, you get the point.

Nothing is easy, no job is secure, and no talent is better than hard work and discipline.

I will change the world and make people read again, and I will span the globe praising my God, my family and my beautiful country.

But most importantly….

I will never forget how many times I was locked in a proverbial “dark room” with no light, no hope, and no way out.

I will also never forget that in those darkest moments when I looked to God for help he didn’t deadbolt the door, but instead, he opened a window that I was too blind to see and helped me get out, even if I had to crawl to start.

I do not fear death, because I think I am immortal.

I do not fear death, because I have faith, scratch that, I know God wont ever put me through turmoil that I can ask him for help to get out of.

I do not fear life, because I know through every trial God will always listen.

I hope if you aren’t “right with God,” you give yourself the chance to be, and when the blessings start to roll in, remember to at least say “thank you” ;)

Its All Night All the Time...

I have been killing myself lately. Slowly.

I never worked this hard at or on anything in my life.

Some days I have the energy to power through and other days I feel like my writing projects will never get finished.

I have come to sort of understand why someone would essentially want to come home to a family.

Sort of.

Writing is solitary, its quiet, its lonely, and with me its filled with self-doubt.

You don’t understand the idea of “alone” until you have spent entire days not having interactions with anyone beside the local barista, and entire nights where the only thing you hear is the sound of your fingers hitting a keyboard.

I am still finding this lifestyle very difficult to adjust too. I have never been ok with waking up at 9 a.m. on a Wednesday, but when you sleep at 5 a.m. that same morning, getting every minute of sleep counts.

Two days ago I was up for about 53 hours straight, I had bloodshot eyes, my body was in absolute fucking pain and what finally put me in bed was the fact that I couldn’t stop myself from nodding off while typing. I woke up after putting six hours of sleep in and felt miserable.

It was like feeling depressed, tired, isolated, frustrated, and worried all in one.

Sometimes I wonder if self-doubt secretly lives in my apartment, sitting by waiting for the chance to impose itself throughout my mind and make me sick.

I am tired. I want to sleep for eight hours. I am drowning.

I am shrinking over here. Most days I starve simply because I cant be bothered to leave what I am doing to go grab food, or worse make food.

Do you realize what waste of time eating can actually be?

For a moment last week, I questioned whether being single was ideal for me anymore. Obviously it is, considering I work all day and all night and I can’t even keep dinner plans with my friends.

I have flaked on friends and family in the past week more times than I have in my entire life.

Literally.

And it has nothing to do with me not wanting to hang out and get drunk, or party and enjoy good food, I just cant pull myself away from my computer and I think its because I am terrified to ever have to hear the words “paycheck” and “lunch hour” again in my life.

Either way I need a fucking break, and as soon as 31 days are up I am going somewhere fucking cool as shit. Not too mention that I don’t plan on doing shit this summer, no school, no bullshit job.

I am going to write, write, wake up, write, brush my teeth and write, write for a couple hours after, skip lunch to keep writing and right before I go to bed, I will lay down to write.

Say a prayer for me, because chances are I need it.