I'm biking idly around Palo Alto, California, under the trees, thinking about all the income from writing I expect to start getting soon. I project about $70,000 a year on average, and I figure I can support myself and about ten friends on that--I live cheaply after all, and already have a baseline income from all the savings I invested. I'm cheap. I can afford to support, yes, about ten. Make a list...

Funny, all those on my list are Psychodrama actors, old friends I haven't seen much in recent years. Nor have I missed them much. Not old friends: EX-friends!

Slowly I start thinking "Why would I want to support these people I hardly know any more? They already feel like drama queens, most of them... free money will just make that worse."

I don't enjoy them any more. I want to dump them all! But can I? I'm such a soft touch for money... and they're such good actors. They can always manufacture a crisis...

Maybe I'm better off staying poor.

WAKING NOTES

• Psychodrama "friends": sides of me who are into drama (and trauma). They drain my attention away from the present!
• Ten parts for others, one for me: yeah, that's about my ratio. My leftist parents taught me always to share the wealth. This dream-motif recurs--if I succeed, parasites drain all the rewards away. I'm NOT anhedonic ("numb to pleasure"--common in depression), I'm not afraid of success, and I ENJOY the rewards--but I feel compelled to give the rewards away! So... I won't make an effort! On strike till I can enjoy what I've earned.

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