Secrets

"I have secrets." I announce.

" Ooohhh, secrets?" you say, in a hushed whisper.

"Yes, oodles and oodles of secrets."

"Like what?!" you ask breathlessly.

"Well..." I begin, "I don't really like to talk about it".

"Oh COME ON! You have to tell me, I won't tell a soul, I PROMISE !" you say fervantly.

"Well, alright, I have been dying to tell someone." I say with relief. "Soo, here goes."

Deep breath. " I'm broke."

Silence.

"What?that's it? No skeletons in your closet? No torrid affairs? No illegal activity? No illegitimate child fathered by some Bavarian Prince? No AA meetings? No criminal record? No plastic surgery? Nothing juicy at all? You're just broke?!" you cry.

"Yup." I say. "I'm terrible with money and now I'm in debt up to my eyeballs."

"But, but", you stammer, "that's not a good secret, everybody's broke, everybody's in debt."

"Maybe, but I'm one of the few admitting it." I say with conviction.

"How did this happen? I thought you had it all together?" you wonder.

"I was just good at acting. But a combo of school loans, stupid decisions, and a paycut are making it pretty obvious now." I say quietly.

You look at me for a moment, a little furrow in your brow as you take in what I've told you. "So what does this mean for you now?"

"It means that I will be cutting back, selling things, not going out to eat, living with less until I fix this and make it right. It might even mean a second job." I say firmly.

"A second job? Do people still do that? Isn't that, well, hard?" you say with a puzzled expression.

I sigh. "Not as hard as feeling like a failure at managing my own life."

"So that's it, really? Nothing seedy or shocking whatsoever?" you ask.

"Well...." I say with a dramatic pause. "I'll tell you this much, there may have been some plastic surgery, but if you can't tell, then I probably got my money's worth."

I walk away with my head held high, looking back only to see your mouth still hanging open.