Manifesting Money and Bad Job Offers

Do you remember when I was talking about getting what you focus on-whether it be sickness, poverty, success, a man that brushes his teeth, etc...? 'Member? I told you and the universe I was a money magnet. Ring any bells? Well, I haven't had any hundreds flying out of nowhere and planting themselves onto my well fit body...yet. However, I have not given up hope. In fact, according to Doreen Banaszak, the author of Excuse Me, Your Life is Now: Mastering the Law of Attraction, I need to live as if I have a ton o' money. When I make purchases and pay bills, I must follow it up with telling myself, the universe, and possibly the people in line behind me at the checkout counter and/or the poor sap working in the bill collection department, that I am grateful to have more than enough money to pay for my purchase and my bills. So, without bothering the people in line and the poor sap, I do this.

In fact, I did this just yesterday when I decided that I was going to go to Cancun with my friend, E., in December, a week before Christmas. High season, people! At first, I panicked about the fact that I was living on borrowed time - financially speaking - and that I was, in fact, mostly unemployed and have some hefty school loans to pay off each month (as well as rent for my shed). But then, I thought about Doreen and her brilliant advice and I bought those tickets, damn it! Screw sensibility and practicality. I am alive now and while I can still move around without a walker, I am going to make the best of it - I am going to live!! Praise the Dali Lama, I am going to live, people! Besides, I am grateful to have more than enough money to pay for my purchase and my bills. You must remember, people, that Ima money magnet!!

In addition to this, I keep telling the universe that I have a creative and playful job, blah, blah, blah. And so, what happens? This job, where I would be working with KIDS, tries to get me to come in for an interview. They already tried this a couple of months back and I didn't go then, so why would I go now? KIDS! Don't they drool and have germs? Cooties? Bad manners? Oh, no, that's right, those are the people at my gym. In any case, I try to get out of it. I tell them I have no certification (and I know for a fact that the job requires certification). "No problem," they say. Then, they want me to bring a portfolio of my work. Ha ha ha. I don't have a portfolio - give me a break - portfolios are for people that went to school to teach KIDS. [Don't look at me!!!? I don't know what they're thinking.] So, I tell them that I don't have a portfolio because I never needed one to work with adults. "No problem," they tell me again. Apparently, I don't need one. So, then I ask when the start date is. They tell me it starts A.S.A.P. Ha. I tell them that I can't possibly start right away. And what did they say? Yep, you guessed it. "No problem." They can wait. Aren't they just so accommodating? Now, I just can't get them off my back, so I say, "I can't make the interview date - it's too soon and I have to work (online)." They beg me, people. They tell me that I am a very strong candidate in such a way that I can hear them winking at me over the phone. Whyyyyyy oh whyyyy? I am not qualified, I am not eager, and it's obvious by now that I am not even trying. So, what happens next? I give in and agree to make the nearly two-hour drive north (a.k.a snow boots and electric blanket territory) for an interview for a job I don't even want. Why? For the same reason I went on my non-date date when I had the squirts. Because I feel like it's a symbolic move more than anything else. Any move in any direction is better than not moving at all, right? And, we all know, that I have to move on now. This grieving and healing period is getting old. I am getting old (as evidenced by the whiskers on my chin). But don't be fooled, people. It is only symbolic - in both cases. Unless either one of them - the non-date date - or the job I don't want - offers me a ton o' money, I ain't biting. It isn't my dream and I am tired of - no - not tired of, but tired from - not following my dreams. Didn't you ever read, The Alchemist?

So what is my dream? To sell music, sing, and make a children's album. That's right, I want to make music for drooling, cootie carriers. Got a problem with that? I also want to write a best selling novel and sell several written pieces - [my latest submission is about growing up with a voyeuristic parent. A bit of nonfiction, actually. I will let you know when it gets published. And I get paid. Don't worry about the parent - he's dead].

Are you tired of me yet? Me too.

I am rubbered out.

I'll see you around in the square.

Ima B. Cupp