As I settle into my post-holiday funk, I am eying 2014 with more trepidation than optimism. Although I've managed to somehow financially hang on since I moved to South Carolina, it has never been with any degree of comfort. I haven't been able to relax or, even momentarily, take my eye off the ball – not once in seven years.
|I am one of the fortunate ones who owns his home.|
If I was trying to support a family, had a kid in college, making a mortgage payment or even had a car payment, I would be S.O.L. Thankfully, none of these apply.
I've entered that no-man's land where I am too old to be employable, and too young and unprepared to retire.
The bottom line is that as a freelance writer, I manage to cover the bills, pay my taxes, put litter in the cat box and even underwrite a run or two to Florida every year, but I haven't saved a penny during the past decade. I don't expect that to change in 2014.
I take a certain amount of pride in having kept my nose above the water line since my unceremonious separation from AMI in 2004, but a bit of luck and some help from friends and family contributed to my survival.
For that I am, and always will be, grateful.
Monday, January 6th, signals the mental, emotional start of 2014 for me. The holidays over, reality sets in.
My plan: I'll plow forward one day at a time, pounding it out, and somehow make it all work.
So, although I'm not particularly optimistic about 2014 being “better,” I am determined to continue fighting the good fight tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. It's what I do and have been doing for several years.
What keeps me moving forward is that I know I'll encounter a few laughs with good friends along the way. I guess you can't really ask for much more than that.