I said it in the dark so that he could not see my tears and my fears and the knotted ball of anxiety inside of me, "I am petrified, Caveman. I did what I said I was going to do. I was big and brave and I made my Blue Sweater Day speech and now I do not have a job. I DO NOT HAVE A JOB. I have no place to go everyday and I do not have enough work to keep my mind busy and I do not have enough money to pay all that I need to pay. And what if there is no more work out there for me? And what if no one wants me?" Then, I listed about a million ridiculous, yet somehow plausible, what-if scenarios. And I gotta give the Caveman props for not swatting at me like a mosquito caught in his ear just so I would shut up.
Instead, he spoke very calmly and slowly like you would to a small retarded child, "DJ, I know you. You are going to get your hard-hustle on. You will get work and then you will have money and then your bills will be paid. And by this time next month, you are going to be telling me that you wished you had enjoyed this little bit of down time that you have right now because you will have hustled hard and you will have gotten a ton of work and all of your bills will be paid. Now, please go to bed and go to sleep or you will make yourself sick tomorrow. Pleeeeaaase." And that last part was said with the quiet desperation of a grown man who really just wants to cry because he knows his alarm is going off in about two hours at 4:00 am.
But I did not sleep, and a lot my Facebook friends can attest to that. Instead, I worried and I plotted and I strategized and I scenario-ized.
And then I got up and I got my motherfuckin' hard-hustle on.
And the Caveman was right...again. Thank you, God.