My friend's mom has an interesting principle. Whenever she gets a fine, a tax, or something that she has to pay but is unpleasant, she "counters it."
She goes to a store and buys herself something nice for the double price of the payment. Double down on your potential misfortune. No fine is going to ruin my day, principal.
Or something in that ballpark.
And I know people who were always misfortunate. First, they got tax audited, then their spouse died, leaving even more debts. Then they got into personal bankruptcy. Well, I helped with that since there was no other option. She had some nasty loansharks trying to be white-collar creditors. She got a job, and most of the taxes hit the statute of limitations (a little trick that only worked where she lived). Things looked OK, bearable.
We met on the street a few months ago (after a couple of years, she was out of bankruptcy). She was complaining. She borrows money from a friend. Everything she saved.
What can I do? She sobbed?
Well, nothing, you dumb shit, I thought. I was not so harsh with actual words, "Oh, this is horrible." "How could this happen," etc.
I was talking to my wife afterward. How can you be this stupid? Because she genuinely believed she was just misfortunate and not bad with money.
To be fair, she is a lovely lady. She is just not good with money. You know, the kind. The one who would be best with no money because that would limit her risk of debt and bad credit.
And then I started thinking. We are a bit silly. We live in our places, villages, and cities and hang with the same people, talking the same stupid stuff, and then we expect some different results.
"Insanity is the act of repeating the same thing and expecting different results" is a quote attributed to Einstein. Whoever said it was brilliant in my book.
People hate change. But they hate introspection (looking in the mirror and critically asses oneself) even more. We hate to see our mistakes. We hate it.
No matter. I decided to change. I am no longer a miserable, soon-to-be old lawyer doing grunt work complaining. I am going to be a rich old fuck complaining. And I may not be there yet, but I intend to try. And keep trying.
To fuck with all the naysayers, says Denis Felix in his book How to Get Rich. You should read that one or get the audio version. It is pretty entertaining. And not at least a book that some charlatan wrote on how to get rich by writing a book about how to get rich. Denis Felix was already wealthy when he wrote it and died a couple of years later due to cancer. He was a "chap" (originally from the UK) that liked poetry and other stuff that interested men (you know, booze, women, drugs, etc.).
But I diverge.
It is like this. People send addicts to these communes. Where they work, talk, heal, and obstinate. And then they come back to the same environment, the same drug friends, the same environment that helped, enabled, or pushed them into addiction in the first place.
So, to change, change the environment, change you, change your friends. And your "luck" will change with it, trust me.
But if you keep sobbing to the same old friends, then be sure to remain unlucky and miserable. No other way out of it. And god forbid you win the lottery. You will be in more debt than you saw in your life.
Stop Sobbing and do something about it; dump those sobbing friends who were no friends. A friend would tell you to shut up and get your act together, not join your pity party. That is a friend in my view. Someone who can laugh with you, at you, at him, and tells you the truth to your face if you need it. Even if it hits you like a steamroller hits a snail. Splash! You needed it, and it was delivered!
Now go find a friend like that and dump the rest. And ditch the pity party; it is pushing your luck to the swamps.
I think my friend's mom has the right idea. If life throws you a curveball, throw it back at it, buy yourself something nice and enjoy the game.