How to Make Money When You Are Too Crazy to Work

Woman in a blue wig and owl mask

It is my sincerest hope that this post doesn’t resonate with most of my readers. I hope you can wake up in the morning, brush your teeth, pour yourself some joe, and work a long and productive day at your nine to five job, five days a week until you die… at your desk.

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But I wanted to put a resource out there for my readers who have bouts of “I am just too fucking crazy right now to work a real job.” Because despite what we may think, it happens to the best of us.

I have very good mental health. I wake up happy, I don’t experience any kind of explosive emotions (unless, of course, I see dogs locked in hot cars or someone chewing really loudly then, naturally, all bets are off). For the most part, I’m a pretty stable Sally.

That being said, all of my immediate family members are severely mentally ill. Like, screaming-at-mailboxes-and-threatening-to-kill me mentally ill. I also have PCOS and when I have that perfect combo of “daddy is stalking me again” and “I’m five weeks late for my period,” sometimes I get too fucking crazy to work.

I have had times in my life where my family situation, my health, or my work situations have been too much to endure. I have left jobs because of sexual harassment so bad I would have felt safer on the set of “Good Will Humping.” During those times, the idea of putting on a cute outfit, getting a Starbucks, and talking with all the scary people has left me noping right the fuck out of my job. But that’s the thing about life: crazy or not, you always gotta have that sweet cash to pay those not-so-sweet bills.

So what do you do when you just snap? Your fibro or anxiety or piece-of-shit boss force you into the world of unemployment? How do you pay the bills when you’ve had it with the nine to five, and it’s had it with you? Luckily, DG has you covered.

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Here are seven things I have done for money at my nuttiest:

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The Damn, Girl Diet

Girl holding a half-eaten donut

Ah, dieting. The most futile endeavor of our times. Diets completely work while we are on them, and then suddenly stop when we go off them. It’s a mystery worthy of Scooby-Doo.

It takes a level of deranged self-importance to think that one could make a meaningful contribution to the endless amount of lifestyle tips, healthy eating hacks, or diet tricks at this point of insufferable saturation. Luckily, I have that level of deranged self-importance, and am going to blow your mind. Then run for president.

So without further ado, I present the Damn, Girl Diet:

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Meal Prep for When You Just Can’t Even

Sleeping girl

I have two versions of myself: the one that kicks ass and takes names, and the one that just. can’t. even.

It’s a hormonal thing. I can’t be expected to clean my house and cook dinner and defeat my enemies when I am downing wolfsbane and transitioning into a she-beast. I ride those energy waves just like most women, but I feel like we aren’t allowed to admit that we ride them. Because that makes us “less-better than men,” or “hormonal,” or “crazy,” or “lazy,” or my favorite: “witches.”

Maybe you are that elusive super woman who has consistent mood, energy, and awesomeness all month long, who kicks ass from sun up to sundown 365 days a year and runs and wins marathons on the first day of her period. In which case, Hi Gwyneth! Thank you so much for reading, girl! I loved you in “Duets”!

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For the rest of us, learning to navigate those waves, whether they be from hormones, or depression, or balancing a job and a family is key to master the art of adulting.

I’m a bit of an extremist by nature. I get these grand ideas of preparing surf and turf on a Wednesday, duck a l’orange on a Thursday, tackling a vegan dish worthy of the cover of Bon Appétit on a Friday, and ringing in the weekend with Eggs Benedict and homemade apple crisp.

In reality, I have surf and turf on a Wednesday and then the fridge is empty for the rest of the week and I bounce a check cause that shit is expensive and by the time the weekend comes around, I can be found half naked, squatting in front of the fridge eating the last remnants of a block of cheese.

I’m better now. I’ve discovered “attainable goals” and “pajamas” and something called “meal prep.”

These tips may seem over-simplistic, but that’s the point. We all spend 45 minutes on Pinterest, get these crazy ideas in our head about “30 meals in 3 hours” and 30 hours later, we have 3 meals and are shitfaced and covered in peanut butter. So, here’s to attainable goals and to meal prep for when you just can’t even.

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Shit You Might Not Know Because No One Tells Millennials Anything

Girl in a dryer at a laundomat

Let me preempt this post by saying: maybe you had awesome boomer parents who were wise and gave you guidance and provided you with endless opportunities and pearls of wisdom. In which case, ask them if they are up for adopting a 29-year-old blogger who sometimes only pretends to wash her hands for the comfort of others and is not above eating things out of the garbage.

George Costanza eating out of the trash

But this post is for the rest of my contemporaries who, in our guidance-free lives, use #adulting and call all of our other millennial friends when we discover how to load a fucking dishwasher.

Our general cluelessness and enthusiasm for life hacks has been on my mind a lot and has led me to conduct a very unscientific poll. This week I have been asking all my millennial friends, “What is the best piece of advice you ever got from your parents?”

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