Bucket full of marbles

I wouldn't consider myself overly cautious or anything. Bungee jump I will not. When possible, preparing and calculating consequences is more along my lines of doing and thinking. Don't get me wrong, I am not scared of heights or jumping into thin air off a bridge, or crane, whatever it might entail. Bottom line, the wee elastic cord just doesn't seem sturdy enough for this portly one to dangle graciously from. I am currently finding myself in a bit of a financial mini-crisis and thus will have to search for a second job to sustain my debt and lengthy choice of bad decisions made in the last year or so. Although Kevin hasn't quite been pushed into the dark hole, I am feeling kinda like Indian Jones in that movie where the giant ball of dung is chasing him in the gauntlet-like obstacle course thingy. The dung is my debt, or financial institution; something like that. I have spent a lot of money as of late, made a few decisions that albeit have been extremely rediculous, but not negative in any other way than that I've jumped a few blocks of sidewalk-chalk hopscotch a teency weency bit further than my bank account and credit limit can handle. In opening this next chapter though, I have realized something. All through high school and for a few years after (with the exception of those rediculous few months in St. Kitts) I was the furthest thing from unhappy while extending myself to the absolute limit with a normal course load, at a paying job working an equal amount to if not more than full time hours, while filling in all possible gaps with social outings. It looks like I have to abort and swerve back into survival mode. My bed's been made. My jobs will be like marbles full up in a bucket, while people who can make time for me will be the sand poured in between the cracks. I often explain that the reason I carry a purse is because I was a Boy Scout. Their motto includes something to the effect of always being prepared. Whenever I need something while on the go, no stop at the drugstore nor a whip-lash causing U-turn is required to go back home for this or that. I have ironically been a little reckless lately and have been straying from the purse carrying a bit, look where it's gotten me. Don't get all crazy, it's not in the grandiose realm of fat man on a slightly larger than normal elastic band kinda deal. Know anyone who's hiring?

Toodles