1. I run a cake business. I charge people hundreds for wedding cakes… Every last one is made using Pilsbury cake mix I buy for $1 a box at Walmart. I suck at baking. Every time I’ve ever tried to make a cake from scratch it sucked. But baking is like.. My whole deal.
My friends all call me the cake girl. It’s like my whole life is a lie. People compliment my cakes all the time. Telling me how delicious they are. Telling me it’s so much better than box mix cake. Telling me they could never bake a cake so delicious.
First, you have to go back in time to when you’re a child. From a young age, you start hearing comments about your appearance. Random family members will say things like, “You may not be pretty, but you have brains. Being smart is so much more important.” Or, “Don’t worry, you’ll grow into you looks some day.”
To be honest, it feels completely normal. I can’t imagine being any other way, therefore I can’t say definitively how it is so different from not being asexual. Not to say that I haven’t perceived some differences while growing up.
While in school, most notably middle school, when relationships were becoming more and more of interest with my peers, I always wondered what the point was. Because I felt no internal stirrings of being physically interested in anyone I misguidedly perceived that everyone else was feeling nothing, which lead me to wonder “Why”. It was hard for me to think of an end game.
My wife didn’t come home last night. She went out with a couple of girlfriends, which is pretty normal for her. She’s normally back around 2AM on these nights, so I waited up. Around 2:30, I called to check in. She answered, and I could hear people in the background. She told me they went to a party but were leaving in a couple of minutes. She wasn’t home by 3 so I texted. It delivered, but no reply. Around 4AM I called again, it rang a couple of times before she sent me to voicemail.
There is no “typical” week, as my job is a non-specialized function. Thus, I typically spend my time working on X (see below), plus facilitate decisions on whatever critical issue has been escalated to my level. I say “facilitate” instead of “make” because sometimes I’m not the best person to make a decision, but instead I push people to sharpen their thinking, confront ambiguity, etc, in order to render a decision, especially on tough issues.
To be extremely poor feels debilitating. It’s as if your vision is limited by your circumstances clouding the view beyond the now.
It’s isolating and oftentimes hopeless.
It’s like an unprepared army of one, who, if equipped with the right tools (knowledge, strategy, preparation, support and resources) could overcome and achieve anything.
1. All I’ve ever wanted was just to feel what it’s like to be in love, just once.
Just once. That’s it.
All I’ve ever wanted, from the age of 16, was to fall in love with a girl who would reciprocate my feelings. I’ve wanted to feel what it would be like to rest my head on her lap while she talks about her day, to give her a loving embrace after not seeing her for a couple of days, to get butterflies in your stomach when you see her coming from a distance. To watch and laugh at shitty movies in bed one weekend, to enjoy activities that you wouldn’t normally do yourself with, to listen to a love song and see her face.
Most people think it’s nice to be rich because you can buy whatever you want and eat whatever you want. Want to eat a thawed mammoth? It can be arranged. Want to fly around in a working jet pack or jetski in Shaq’s backyard? That’s possible, too. Want the city to shut down an entire interstate for you and your friends to drive 200 mph on public roads? Done.
But that isn’t really what’s so great about being rich. I could eat a $2 meal in Bangkok, and it would be delicious. There’s no need to eat those $400 meals at Michelin-starred restaurants.