Subscriptions have fallen so hard recently that I can't help but say something about the bad news, and some readers asked me.
Since the money from writing books full-time is not enough to live on, why not go back to work and write part-time.
I reflected on myself, maybe it was because I already hated my original job.
I work as a hotel chef, a stable and menial job.
In today's high-end hotels, all operations have matured. Except for a few chefs, most people are just screws.
Some people are poor, but they don't know it. But the average chef in the hotel is poor, and he really knows that he is poor.
In Shanghai, a place where land is at a premium, with a salary of 3,000 to 5,000 yuan, I can serve a wedding banquet worth 18,888 yuan.
It’s easy to make a set meal with a per capita price of less than 1,000 yuan. Only people with a per capita price of 2,000 to 3,000 yuan will pay attention to it.
Serving the richest group of people in China, I always think in my mind, why is the gap between people so big?
Wandering on the edge of wealth, I not only know that I am poor, but I also know it in a very specific, detailed and reference way.
Maybe it's because I'm a bit pretentious and sensitive. This sense of contrast between rich and poor brought me a steady stream of inspiration, which is why I wrote this book.
After I was fired from my job, I started writing books full-time. Although my income was getting less and less, my mood was unprecedentedly relaxed and calm.
Ten years of youth were exchanged for two years of social security unemployment benefits. During this time, I was reluctant to go to work.
Maybe one day I will return to that most familiar place, but not now. Because I am not at the end of my rope yet, I still have a little money in my pocket.
A reader once asked me, how much is enough?
I answered, five million.
As long as five million falls from the sky and hits me on the head, I will happily write a book at home and never have to go to work again.
I dreamed about four billion at night, and it turned out to be a bad dream. I dared to think about anything.
The above is the idle moaning of a mediocre middle-aged man who has been unemployed for half a year.
Thank you readers for giving me the money to live a peaceful life. Bow and thank you, long live your parents.
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