Put in the apartment application tonight. My credit’s better than it’s ever been, I have more cash on hand than I’ve ever had before, I even have money to pay movers this time. I don’t want to jinx it so I’m gonna expect obstacles still, but it’s looking good.

AND I got approved. Holy shit I’m so excited.

You have no idea how dead one’s dating life becomes when they are 40 and have no place of their own. But mostly I’m looking forward to whatever untold levels of mental health await me when I get alone time every day, and don’t have to worry about the rent.

I’ve had apartments before … and I was always late on the rent.

I had a really high-paying job once … but I was moving from couch to couch because it was so high stress I couldn’t navigate finding a place, and I lived paycheck to paycheck, and that went on a year and a half and then they fired me. I might have been able to make it if I’d had an apartment, could truly rest each night.

Now, it’s all coming together:

The apartment
The job
AT THE SAME TIME

Holy shit I have never been stable in my entire life.

For my mother money was chaos. She worked for herself. It was boom and bust. We’d splurge. We’d scrape. We’d go without when money didn’t come in. She saved nothing. Ever. My grandfather died and the family decided to sell his land to a suburb developer. She got $35k. The money was gone in a flash, as was my grandfather’s beautiful land.

My model of success in life was “be brilliant, get discovered, rocket to the stars”. I saw the world as chutes and ladders: lucky breaks catapulting me into new social strata. I went to a fancy college, took out loans.

After I got out I quit my first full time job. Too boring. Moved into a techie frat house. Started writing code. Worked freelance because I wanted to be free.

My friends and peers got jobs. Took vacations. Had their evenings free. I was a businessman! with no boss! I was free!. But I was always broke. Occasionally I’d get a big contract.

But I didn’t follow through. I cut corners. I smoked weed like a chimney, and procrastinated my work. I worked super short days. I’d go to a coffee shop, open the computer, code for an hour, decide “eh I’ll get cracking tomorrow” and then I’d leave.

I constantly drank coffee, thinking it would motivate me. I had no idea that anxiety was a bigger problem than any “lack of motivation” I had. So I’d sit there and drink coffee and eat simple carbs and get into a miserable state.

But I was that glitzy, glamorous figure: the dude with the computer making bank in hourly. I kept cranking my rates up.

My zen teacher said to me, repeatedly, “I think a good move for you would be to just get a full time job”. I ignored his advice.

Then in 2017 I got my hands on some acid, and microdosed for a while. I suddenly realized: all my financial problems come from the irregularity of my income. The acid blew my mind with a new realization: I’m getting old and this working-for-myself shit isn’t working. (Thanks LSD!)

Anyway, it’s been a long hard road and I now make almost nothing compared to when I made senior software dev money, yet my finances are healthier.

I could go on and on. Thank you for your encouragement!