Want to hear something depressing? Here's my earnings per year, from my Social Security statement:
1983: $2,574 (I was 14, scooping poop at a dog kennel, which I enjoyed far more than most subsequent work)
1984: 5,458 (Kentucky Fried Chicken, a.k.a., Come Fuck Me Fried Chicken, during high school)
1985: 3,700 (ditto, plus at the end of the year I entered the marine corps)
1986: 7,787 (the next three years, I was in the service)
1987: 9,347
1988: 11,004
1989: 12,611 (I got out toward the end of the year and got a job for $8.10/hour)
1990: 21,982 (and from here on out, these are my earnings as a venerable administrative assistant; there was no eBay for supplemental cash)
1991: 17,688
1992: 19,504
1993: 24,582
1994: 18,518
1995: 2,940 (I left for New Zealand this year and returned in mid '97)
1996: 0
1997: 18,169
1998: 28,612
1999: 20,407 (the year before I came here)
2000: 8,168 (I attended an art school for part of the year and dropped out; I found I didn't want to be a graphic designer--it was another dead-end job, not too different from what I'd been doing)
2001: 26,212
2002: 31,550 (whoa, I actually broke thirty grand, can you believe it?)
I want more. I want MORE. Even if I'm not filthy, stinking rich, I want a comfortable lifestyle and solid earnings. I want to be on the right side of the rich/poor divide, seeing as the middle class is dwindling. My bro and SIL, both engineers with master's degrees, surely exceed the six-figure mark between the two of them. There's no reason I can't do the same. When I entered the civilian working world, I made adjustments on the downward side in regards to my standards of living; I thought a job that paid ten bucks an hour was a score. I learned to be content with very little, and not expect more than to simply make ends meet (my boyfriend at the time said, after I bought some chino's on sale, "Oh, I'm glad. You never buy anything for yourself." Well, I couldn't. Dumbass. (He really was piteously stupid--and he had a master's degree.)) It's time to wake up and realize that I no longer have to limit myself. And I don't want to have to depend upon anyone else.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Notice: Some X- and R-rated content and links are present. If you possess delicate sensibilities or are under 18, I suggest you depart immediately. Or not, but don't say I didn't warn you. May also contain mundane and prosaic entries. Read at your own risk.
About Me
- Name: Newpeep, N.D. (neurotic depressive)
- Location: United States
Whateya need to know about me? Hmmm, I'm not clever enough to summarize myself concisely. Guess I'm underdeveloped, a late bloomer. Still trying to find my way in the world. I've already found my way *into* the world, which I suppose is a step in the right direction ... isn't it?
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