Yesterday I was thinking about what tattoo to get, when to find time for a massage, where to buy the obscure ingredients needed for a vegan lasagna. Today I’m brainstorming ways to save and scrounge, how to rake in extra dough, and what needs to be foregone for a while.

He loses his job at the whim of an asshole who reigns with power and politics. Maslow’s hierarchy steps in. Pull out the credit card statement, no more organic eggs ,shower at the gym, postpone the ballet classes for little one. Time to tighten the purse strings, draw lines between what’s necessary and unnecessary, a practice that has been conveniently avoided for years.

It’s no big deal we tell each other. A comforting truth we paint for ourselves. “It’s just a job.. it will come and go.” Yes, true. But the whens and hows and how muchs hang on our heads, behind our charades of normalcy. These are tests right? Of endurance and love. What do they call it, crests and troughs of life.

So I guess this is a trough. The tattoo will have to wait. There’s time. My hands aren’t going anywhere. In the meantime I will carepediem , livin la vida loca and let the self-actualization wait.

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