37. Not a Description.

Today the feeling of stuck-ness almost got too much.

I’m waiting for my child, but still unemployed at 42.

I’m living in a 2-room apartment in a country where that is not so much and in any case I long for more space. It’s been two rooms for almost 20 years now.

But then again, maybe I’m not that unique …

… in waiting for the insurance organisation to approve of my application to register my own company, for example.

Looking for office space which is free or close to … because I have no cash flow yet …

… from the company …

I could of course cheat, both our equiv of IRS and the insurance and do things under the radar and take money for it … but I want It Approved Now.

I want to register. I want to be Legit.

And pay my bloody taxes, too.

Deduct the right amount from my insurance until I earn enough to cap it completely.

Tell them about Every Bloody Hour I work in my company.

Document Every  Bloody Thing they want documented.

Just. Allow. Me. To Frigging. Start.

Well … at least I can keep working on building the website, helping people for free, making connections.

… Connections that could become customers.

I can do something, while the bureaucratic wheels churn.

Something which helps my business and is legit, too.

Everything is just so bloody slow and not particularly glamorous.

42. Unemployed again. Trying to build a business. Again. Living in a box.

My horizon feels very narrow right now and I won’t lie: Many days there is a sense of despondency.

Like – was this it? Will it never really get better than this?

I mean, I deserve better, don’t I? Just to make the average salary of my country, no matter if I’m independent or a wage-earner, right?

I’m good enough for that, right?

Or maybe it’s not that important after all …

Because one thing is being a failure with earning money, to the extent that it is my responsibility for not being able to navigate this ever-fluctuating job market.

Like I said, that’s not a terribly unique position in the world. It’s just One Thing.

Since I was about 20 I’ve let this define a large part of my self-worth, for both good and often not-so-good reasons.

If there was one decision I could take – one change in perspective – that would make it just a tool for good: Earning money.

Something I did my best at and nothing more.

Something I finally believed deep down on all levels.

Like cleaning, cooking food or whatever.

Something you have to do, even if you are not good at it – for whatever reason. (Ten thumbs?)

But not something that constantly made that troll in your subconscious basement sharpen its ears and listen oh-so-carefully to all the buzz about how important it is for you to be a valuable you, to be good at earning money.

Perhaps social reinforcement is needed here?

But how in the world do I become an entrepreneur and not spend my days around people who want to earn money?

And I do want it! But it should still be just that – a tool.

Not a damn reflection of my Self Worth.

I will find a way to make that change inside me. Once and for all.

Earning money is a tool. Not a description.