Help me make up the difference

It was Thanksgiving this week, and I had four days off. Four days feels like a fortune of time, but now it’s Sunday night, all the leftovers are gone, and I have to go to work tomorrow. It was also the last week of the semester of the songwriting group I am in, unless I’m mistaken. I can’t say how valuable being in the group has been to me. Time is tyranny, but I guess I can use it to my advantage when it comes to songwriting deadlines.

The prompt this week was “25 dollars.” Every time I get a the prompt it feels impossible. I never know how I can make it fit in a song, like not just fit but actually belong. A song is such a complete animal when it’s finished. Seeing a prompt all on its own is like finding a bone on the ground. Out of context, it’s pretty but it can’t walk.

After almost a whole week rattling around 25 dollars in my brain, something happened that made it seem more relevant. I distractedly drove over a curb, popped a tire, bent two rims, and broke some parts of the alignment of my car. Belle was with me, but neither of us got hurt, just scared. Now I will be paying for that mistake for a while. I wrote the lyrics for this song in Les Schwab while I was waiting almost all day on Saturday for my car to be finished, then I recorded it today on my boyfriend’s phone. I feel really lucky that I could do that, when I could have easily hurt myself or ended up in jail doing something so stupid.

Money is just a way to measure things. Time, food, space, work. It ticks out in increments of dollars and cents. I feel like I’m borrowing against tomorrow to make it through today pretty much all of the time. I know we will all come up short eventually, and I guess that’s got to be okay, but I’m glad that it hasn’t happened to me yet.

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