I Got Paid… So Why Is My Check Already Packed Up and Gone?

So, I got paid. Praise God, right? The direct deposit hit then for about thirty-seven seconds, I felt rich. I looked at my balance like, okay girl, we might make it. Then reality strutted in wearing a pair of fuzzy house slippers, sat on my sofa, and said, “Don’t get comfortable, phat.”

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By the time I started thinking about what needed to be paid, handled, filled up, bought, replaced, stocked, and even stretched, that paycheck was already looking at me like it had somewhere else to be.

That is the part that will humble the hell out of you. You get paid, but you do not really get to save much of it. It is like you become the middlewoman between your job and everybody who needs their money. Bills be lined up like they bought tickets to see your paycheck. 

Rent standing in the front with a pair of Harry Potter dark stunner frames on. Utilities tapping their foot and rollin’ their eyes. Groceries waving from the back. Gas acting like it does not know the car cannot run on hopes, dreams, and vibes. Then here come the kids needing snacks, meals, haircuts, clothes, and some books they forgot to mention until the night before it is due.

My next check is basically already spoken for too. Rent is going to drop in like the final boss on a video game, take what it needs, after squaring up with me. That check will be munched up before I can even blink good. I already know how it is going to go. I am going to get the notification, smile for a second, then remember rent is due and say, “Well damn, that was some nice while it lasted.” That paycheck is not even going to have time to unpack its bags. It is coming in the door and heading right back out like it got an Uber or Lyft waiting outside.

Oh and yes, I can laugh about it because if I do not laugh, I might start looking at my ceiling asking God if He accepts payment arrangements on emotional breakdowns. Let me be clear, I am grateful to have money coming in. I am grateful to be working. I am grateful I can cover what I can cover. However, gratitude does not mean I am not tired. Gratitude damn sure does not mean I do not look at these bills and think, “Who the hell raised these prices and why were they allowed to do that without letting me know something first?”

This is why I know I must hustle smarter. Not just harder, because harder already has me tired as shit. I need more than one consistent income. I need money coming from more than one direction.  Depending on one paycheck in this economy feels like trying to mop during a hurricane. You doing all that work to throw your back out, and the water is still coming in. One income will have you thinking you are stable until one bill pops up, one tire acts stupid, one kid needs something, or one unexpected expense decides to start jigging on your peace.

I am not saying I need to be out here doing everything at once until I run myself into the ground. I am saying I need to build something steady. Something that can help me breathe. Something that does not have me waiting on payday like it is a holiday, only for payday to show up, eat a plate, and leave without closing the door behind them. I need consistent income. I am not talking about some cute little random coins that show up once and then disappear like somebody’s unreliable baby daddy.

So, yes, I got paid. And yes, that paycheck is already out the door with a suitcase, a lunchbox, and a damn itinerary booked to travel. But I am not going to sit here and act defeated. I am paying what needs to be paid. I am keeping my kids covered.

I am staying prayed up. I am thinking bigger than just surviving from check to check. This season is teaching me that I cannot just work for money. I must make moves that help money start working for me too.

I refuse to let every paycheck come in my account just to get jumped by bills in the parking lot like it owe them rent or mortgage. At this point, my direct deposit needs a bodyguard, a bullet proof helmet, and maybe a little prayer cloth too. I am going to hustle. I am going to learn. I am going to build. I am going to find ways to create more than one consistent stream of income. Hell, mama needs breathing room. The kids need stability. 

These bills need to stop acting like they are executive producers of my damn life! The next check may be munched up by rent. However, the next version of me is not going to keep living like every payday is a magic trick. One day my money is going to hit my account and sit down, relax, take its shoes off, and stay a while in my savings account. 

Until then, I am going to keep showing up. I am going to keep praying. I am going to keep laughing at this crazy mess and keep building. broke feelings are temporary, but my hustle is about to be consistent as hell.