This retail/call-center/proofreading job is just for right now while I figure things out.
People will take me way more seriously when I get my MA/MFA/ Ph.D./EMS Certification.
My self-published novel/album on Bandcamp/solo photography show in downtown Tallahassee is going to make me RICH.
I have my whole life to save for retirement.
What’s one more drink/cigarette/bucket of extra-crispy chicken/year living in this garden apartment.
This relationship is just for right now while I figure things out.
I’ve worked so hard this year at my retail/call-center/proofreading job that they basically have to give me a raise.
I feel like I owe it to myself to buy this Eames chair/cashmere hoodie/Rolex Submariner/certified pre-owned Jaguar. (Anyway, at this price it’s practically a steal.)
What’s money for, if not to spend it?
My 1,027 followers on Instagram are going to make me RICH.
Well, this country has weathered worse things. Also, we’re nothing like the Incan/Roman/British Empire.
My retail/call-center/proofreading job could never be outsourced.
Regular dental checkups/oil changes/exercise/mammograms are probably more like suggestions.
My retail/call-center/proofreading job could never be done by computers/robots/artificial intelligence.
This marriage is just for right now while I figure things out.
I don’t really care about all that romance stuff.
If I were really sick I’d probably have a much higher fever.
I’ve got all the time in the world.
Everything is going to be okay.