Today I lost a shit load of money trading stocks, so much so that I'm considering quitting that for good. My wife's company got bought out and while the head honchos are saying, "There's nothing to worry about," they're packing up their desks and moving to new companies. And if that aint enough, those school loan payments are starting back up again. I'm on track to becoming president of the Washington, DC chapter of Broke Phi Broke Innnnnnncorporated!
It is with all of this in mind that I find myself thinking about those murder-suicides that kept popping up when the economy tanked back in '08-'09. The idea of killing myself and my family because I'm broke just seems...retarded. I know we're not supposed to use that word anymore, but nothing else comes to mind. I'm broke. People want money from me. I don't want to give it to them and guess what...I don't have to. Why? Because I'm broke. It sounds like a problem that solves itself.
Also, I grew up in a broke family. Correction: A broke-ass family. When your parents borrow money from you and you're a kid...yo ass is broke. I hope to never go back to the days where I have to eat food from the food bank, the government or be on food stamps, but guess what...I'd do that before I'd go killing myself.
Plus, I've been close to death already. It's not cool. I tell this story a lot, but it's a good story to tell:
My doctor told me that there was a mass in my liver that might be cancer. He left that shit on a voicemail at 4:55pm on a Friday. By the time I called back, the office was closed for the weekend. What made it so bad was that the call came a week after I had heart surgery. So imagine that you're 27 years old and you find out you have a life-threatening heart defect that could kill you at any moment. Then you find out you could die during the heart surgery. You come to grips with that, survive the procedure and a week later have someone tell you that instead of dying suddenly like the heart issue, you might die slowly over the next year or so due to cancer...and they tell you this on a voice mail.
In the words of the great Negro entertainer Katt Williams, "This shit right here, nigga..." trumps any "oh I'm broke and want to die" thought that might ever run through my damn head. I have one hell of a "I wanna live" mentality. So, on behalf of The Church of Unemployment where the Right Reverend Ordale J. Allen is our pastor, I want to encourage all of you to remember that being broke is a problem that solves itself. Also, Broke Phi Broke will be having a fish fry next Saturday behind the church.
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