It seems the world has conspired to ensure that I always make just enough money to get by, but never quite enough to be comfortable.

Just when I finish paying off one debt that should set me free, a new one arises. Finally, I figured I had it beat, but this time instead of saddling me with a new debt the world figured it would lower my income instead. Tricksy world.

As a reward for 30 years of military service, starting 1 April I will henceforth only be employed part-time—12 days a month—at least until the next war breaks out and the gov't figures they need me again. My new income will afford me roughly $300 less than what I need per month to actually cover my expenses. Forget about things like spending money, or entertainment. Oh, and all my benefits are gone, too. No medical, dental, ect.

The dream is, of course, to supplement my income with my writing. Seeing as I only made about $400 in book sales last year though, I'd better get cracking and write more books.

The upside is that I only work 12 days a month, so I should have more time to write—or get a job delivering pizza.