Life Is Too Short
I Would Rather Drink Aged Alligator Piss on The Rocks With Lemon And A Twisty Straw Before I Work In Corporate America 9–5 Again
That bridge is burned — I am no longer a good fit
“Only courageous hearts can endure the bitterness of truth.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, The Book of Maxims, Poems and Anecdotes
I consider myself a lucky woman. I came up hard, but through luck, skill, serendipity, and a little help from my friends, I escaped the poverty of Chicago’s South Side. My entire family is with me. We are doing much better than any of us could have expected.
My mom was a functional alcoholic, but she believed in education. Whoever came home with less than all A’s was in for an ass whipping, whether she was drinking or not.
Anybody doing anything with gangs, stealing, or anything else illegal would be seriously embarrassed, as Ma would hunt down our skanky friends. She informed our friends that she would whip everybody’s ass if her children continued in illegal activities. After that, we were poison. No one wanted Ma searching for them because of our involvement in one of their schemes. My father was a Chicago cop who might also look for them.
