Lyfted Consciousness

Even though I need a break from corporate work, I also still need to make money.

That is how capitalism works. Everything cost.

Even though I have enough saved to survive with my bills on autopay, I did not save enough to eat out and go out on the town during my summertime chi thought sabbatical.

So, I turned to my favorite part-time gig economy hobby to fill both my time and my pockets. The Bible does tell us in Proverbs that a man who doesn't work doesn't eat. And my man is putting his extra money toward the debt snowball I all but forgot about while trying to calm my mind and chase contentment.

I signed up for Lyft as an MMJ in Michigan. It seemed too perfect a job pitch. Use your car to get paid driving others around, have the people you pick up and drop off systemized (easily identifiable for if things go wrong), get tips for stuff you should already do - like being friendly and having a clean car - a legalized jitney.

Plus, I love people.

Both their faults and their favor intrigue me.

Most of all, I love their stories.

The woman with stage four breast cancer catching a 30-minute drive to a cab coordinator job she despises...

The father who woke up to his 14-year-old son crashing his car on a late-night sneaked-out joy ride.....

The woman moving to Florida one (over) 50-pound suitcase at a time.....

And I, the stranger hungry to hear about their experiences, I can validate and encourage their wrath and joy.

I am a waitress who serves transportation and gets to choose my hours.

After trying the various electronically serviceable ways to do work, the choice to drive and talk won.

But trying to get my husband to agree with my choice was a battle.

First things first, I am not the best driver. This would be me driving almost 20 hours per week.

I have gotten into three car accidents in the last two years -all due to distraction. Yet, I was not on the phone in either incident (Sleep, Teenage Driver, Back right wheel hitting the curb)

Second, I now live in Chicago. We debated whether I could or should pick up people in the hood (the several hoods).

My husband was scared of the rising carjacking incidents plaguing the southside.

One of his friends got jacked doing Uber Eats just last summer.

Now, here comes his too-nice wife, welcoming the world into her backseat.

Me- being a producer of news - I saw things differently. I know that people in the hood need rides the most. They don't own cars. I needed to convince him that even though my driving was off, my discernment wasn't that bad. If I felt off before a pick-up, I would cancel the ride.

And I have canceled a few, just based on the fear of picking up someone next to a group of just too many black men unemployed in the middle of the day. But most of my pickups on streets full of potholes and marijuana smoke were of women dropping their kids off at school before they headed to work and vice versa for the pickup.

Many of my hood rides are women over 70 getting back and forth from the grocery store.

Lyfting calms me.

It helps me meet a need- transportation.

It pays me so that I can over visit the museum of ice cream.

But most importantly, it gives me time to think about what I will do next, create blogs, practice rollerskating, and cook for my husband. It lets me stop work when I have a headache or get called to be there for a friend.

If the money wasn't inconsistent and I was an expert driver, I could see this being my job forever.

But I got a debt snowball and two degrees that caused half of it.

So, the journey to figure out what to do next is ongoing...

The journey to find honorable service I can trade for big bucks in a way that won't drive me insane continues....

but not until August.

This summer is God, Lyft, and my thoughts sprinkled over some deep rest!