Tag Archives: fat ass

(I Can’t Get No) Gratification

I was riding the subway a few days ago, and I saw that the nine-year-old boy next to me was playing Slots on his phone. I have to say, that has to be the least gratifying thing in the world. I mean, you “pull” the lever and then, best case scenario, you get three in a row and you win absolutely nothing. I was so frustrated for the kid, and he was having the time of his life. Despite, my instant cynicism, the dumbass on the subway proved that things are as good as what you make of them. He could have been sitting on the subway staring at the person staring at him (me), but instead he was playing Slots and enjoying his ride.

I thought I was an “in the moment” kind of person, but lately I’ve been stuck fantasizing about the future and dreading the present. No bueno. At this rate, I will literally enjoy nothing ever. I have been demoting myself to strive for satisfaction rather than gratification (as a point of reference, in my dictionary, to satisfy is to settle and to gratify is to indulge and enjoy – one step beyond satisfaction I guess). Hmmm, so how to enjoy two unrewarding “jobs” and the broke (not the poor) life? For starters every day, I’m going to achieve satisfaction and strive for gratification. I should stop myself here. I’m not one of those people that can just change their cynical and self-deprecating ways. I’m far too stubborn for that, and comical self-deprecation is kind of my thing. Not trying to give that up. So for now, I’ll just make sure to write a little every day so when people ask me what I’m doing, I can say I’m a writer without feeling guilty enough to correct myself and say, “Well I’m a struggling writer, except I haven’t struggled yet, since I haven’t submitted anything to anyone, and I’m not a starving writer because I’m always eating.” Then I just come off as a fat-ass, which is fine. I’ll just tell people that I can’t afford to be a writer yet. Better yet, I’ll say that I’m saving up to become a writer.

I’m going to attempt to enjoy THE RIDE (full circle blog post; don’t act like you’re not impressed) that is my life as a 22 year-old, living in Manhattan, with no man tying her down. GIRL POWER! HOLLA! PEACE!

How I spent my Sunday

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