How is it we can find ourselves in a place that is very agreeable, and we don't have much to complain about. There is food in our bellies and the people around us are also happy with how things are. Then all of a sudden there is some sort of change in the cosmos and things start falling apart. We go through it all the time but some how we forget these moments happen.
What I'm talking about for my particular situation is money. Money always seems to be the main player in the game of happy. There is that cliche saying that you can't buy happiness, but I don't think it hurts it. I'm not big on buying happiness myself, but it's hard to live life if you haven't got any money.
Sure you are forced to live more frugal and with less fluff, but that isn't the issue. The problem at hand is how it makes you feel. The constant worry of making it by every day, every month, or year. These are things that everyone on this planet thinks about. Those who don't worry about having enough to get by probably are extremely rich and have no souls. Well, they probably have souls but aren't really concerned about having enough money to pay for utilities, etc.
Money has just been on my mind as of late and that is my current feels for my Wednesday feels. I'm super grateful for what I've got but I have to find something better. I need to find my niche. Who is hiding my awesome job somewhere?
Now how do I tie in my pets for Tuesday blog time? I can't afford to get my dog a hair cut right now and that ties into the money conversation. Look at that story telling abilities, eh? I'm like a professional or something.
So...yeah...she is looking pretty shaggy. I would like her to have one more trim before winter so she can grow out her coat over the winter instead of just turning into a mop dog. I'm actually not certain how much longer her hair would even grow. All I know is she needs way more combing than I have time to do with my busy busy bee-ness.
If my phone wasn't dead I would take a picture of how shaggy she has become but for know you'll have to use your imagination. If it takes too long for her to get a hair cut I'll have to whip out the poopy butt scissors. Yes they are used to trim her butt hairs, and no they don't have poop actually on them. That is just what I call them. Last time I trimmed her butt I sang her a weird song and I really wish I could remember it. Those are the moments cameras should be filming my life so that I can share my weird-ness with others, but alas you must go without seeing these oh so special moments.
P.S. Family members who read this please do not fret. I am doing fine, it's just the same worries everyone in this world has about money. I'm just putting my worries in a blog.
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