itsShar.com

Nah, because at this point? This economy is DISRESPECTFUL.

I walked into Albert Heijn the other day, real peaceful, just trying to grab a little something something for dinner. Tell me why I left that store feeling like I got jumped. I picked up one pack of grapes.

One.

The price said €4,98 like it was announcing VIP bottle service at the club. I said: “For GRAPES?? Do they twerk? What is this?”

People always wanna be helpful talking about: “Just get the cheaper brand.” Okay but why is the cheaper brand sitting all the way on the floor like it fell from heaven and never got back up? My knees are tired. My knees are done.

I’m not bending, squatting, folding, crouching, collapsing, none of that, for 40 cents. If that cheap sauce wants my attention, it needs to climb up. Go where the rich people shop. Meet me halfway. I’m not doing pilates in aisle 9.

Healthy eating? Illegal now. A simple salad costs the same as lunch in Paris. A handful of almonds costs more than therapy. Spinach is priced like haute couture. Chia seeds feel like cryptocurrency. Berries are acting like they belong at Dior.

Illness is free. Health isn’t. Make it make sense. At this point, fasting is my only affordable wellness routine. It’s cheap, spiritual, and keeps me out of the supermarket. Even God is probably like, “Yes daughter, come closer. Stay out of Albert Heijn.”

THE PERFUME STAYS. PERIOD.!!!!

I will not, I repeat will not, smell cheap just because life is ghetto. Absolutely not. If I’m going to be broke, I’ll be broke but smelling like generational wealth.

I don’t care if almond milk goes up to €10. I will still buy perfume. I don’t care if eggs cost €6. I will still buy perfume. I don’t care if the government starts charging us for oxygen. I will STILL buy perfume. God gave me a nose; I’m going to use it. I may not eat three meals a day, but baby I will smell like I do.

ENTREPRENEURSHIP?  THAT’S A TRAP!!

They told me, “Be your own boss!”

Lies.

Scams.

Propaganda.

Every month I feel less like a self employed woman and more like a full time employee of the Tax Office. Like I’m clocking in for them, not for me, with no benefits, no days off.

Work hard, tax. Work soft, tax. Buy supplies, tax. Think about raising prices, super tax. At this point I’m basically working for them. Free labor, zero benefits.

Meanwhile people with 9 to 5 jobs get lunch breaks. Paid days off. Structure. This economy is making employment look seductive.

The worst part. The part I almost didn’t say. The part inflation forced out of me. Life is getting so expensive that the thought of accepting a bare minimum man just to split the bills is starting to make sense.

Not emotionally.

Not romantically.

Not spiritually.

Just for survival. Normally I don’t even entertain bare minimum men. But this economy got me thinking, “He doesn’t take me on dates… but he could pay half the rent.”

Capitalism is WICKED…

So yeah, the world is a mess. The bills are demonic. The prices are criminal. Entrepreneurship is a trap. Perfume is salvation. My knees are in retirement. And the government is allergic to seeing us happy. The government doesn’t want us to thrive.

But I’m built different.

I will bloom in chaos. And I will smell like luxury during disasters.

Love Shar