This has got to be my biggest bane in life. A luck of simple numbers. If I could juggle the numbers so many of my problems would skip, skip, trip away.
I'd manage this social anchor of a phone so the wolves would stop howling at me over "payments outstanding". This strip of plastic burning holes in my designer jeans, I could put it away in a drawer and leave it there to stagnate in a pool of interest.
It's not even a lack of funds per se, more a failure on the part of others to be managed. I could juggle these numbers, move them from one hiding hole to the next and constantly be in pocket and ahead of the pack.
If only they would let me.
It's times like these that I think "fuck it". I'll run the banks for all they're worth, mortgages to the hilt and a loan big enough to buy the state of Nebraska.
Then I'll max out my credit card on a brand new fuckin' beast of a Harley, jump on, hit the kick start and with my entire savings in my back pocket and a cigar in my teeth hit the west coast highway and run those fuckers ragged chasing the debt that's their problem now, not mine.
God fucking damn, I'd kill someone to have a motorbike again.
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