Make Everybody Fall Out of the Plane First…

“Make everybody fall out of the plane first.” This was the writing prompt emailed to me today. I get a writing prompt emailed to me every day, and most days I don’t even open them because I don’t generally run out of ideas to write about — I just need a kick in the ass to sit down and write them.

It occurred to me that if this entire story line were my actual real life, like, my really -really-real life(yes, my current life is actually this metaphor, so I hope you like bad metaphor), I already jumped out of the plane. I’ve been in free fall for the last two weeks, and it only just dawned on me to pull the ripcord and hope I packed the parachute properly.

And that the parachute is big enough.

That there’s a parachute at all.

Financially speaking, I’ve been living on a lot of trust in the Universe and myself (either I’m guiding It, or It’s guiding me, but either way, it seems to be working), and so I’ve been lax to check my account balances and throw them forward into December (I had November covered prior to my lay-off, thanks to“Prepaid Living”). I’ve been waiting for my last and final J.O.B. paycheck to hit my bank account.

Yesterday, I got that check and I’m good through December.

Today, I picked up a client in what I’m going to henceforth describe as my Offline Side-Hustle — which is doing freelance odd-jobs for my brother, and not of the writing kind; these are more of the dog-running/house-sitting/pet feeding/brushing and housecleaning twice a month — because, hey — it’s still freelancing of a sort. Right?

Anyway, it’s cash money coming in, and that fills the parachute for a little bit longer… apparently my parachute is refillable.

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