I came across an old diary from when I was a preteen. Man do I crack myself up. I read it to my family and they got some insight into the way my demented mind works.

We laughed the hardest at an entry where my family got stuck on the side of the road in Jamaica, Queens when driving home from my Nana’s in Astoria.

If you can’t picture this scenario in your mind, let me put it this way – have you ever seen the movie Vacation? Well, a tow truck pulled up right before my dad got out of the car like Clark Griswold and said, “Excuse me, homes?” and the guy yells back, “Yo fuck yo momma!” and we drive away with “Honky Lips” spray painted on the side of our car.

It was freezing cold that night and I was probably pissed because I missed The Tracy Ullman Show or Blossom or something. It sucks but it’s not the end of the world, right? Not according to me. Holy crap, I made the event sound like I was living through Judges 19. (If you don’t know what this is, crack your bibles and behold 😳)

A tow truck came and brought us to a gas station. In my diary, I called the guy at the station a ‘moron’ for not being able to ‘fix the hose or whatever it was’. In my suburban bubble dream life, I guess I assumed everyone who worked at a gas station knew how to fix cars. Who’s the moron now, Tiffany? You are.

From that diary entry alone, I could see what an entitled, whiny, brat I was. Someone who had definitely never lived through any hardship in her life.

We ended up calling a car service to get us home. When I walked in the door I fell to my knees and kissed the floor. Dramatic much?

I almost didn’t write that last part because I was embarrassed but my family already laughed their asses off at me, so at this point, who cares?

Thank the Lord I have grown into someone with gratitude and a true belief that the world owes me NOTHING.

It’s like Debbie Allen’s lecture to her dance class in the intro to Fame: “You want fame? Well fame costs. And right here is where you start payin’ – in sweat!” while pounding her walking stick on the floor like a badass.

I’ve worked for everything I have in my life. I ABSOLUTELY got help along the way, but with the things I was given, I could have rested on my laurels and squandered it all.

Instead, I work hard and make it look easy.

When I feel like my marriage isn’t exactly hitting the bullseye I want it to, we have the hard conversations. When my weight is not where I want it, I eat less and work out. When my kids are not acting up to snuff, I’m not their best friend or enabler – I am their PARENT and set them straight. When our finances are off-kilter, we make smarter decisions and get back on course, or as I like to call it, “righting the ship.”

None of this is easy. I work at it.

But I have been told I’m lucky or life is easy for me. It’s not.

Fame is not what I’m after, but I still take Debbie Allen’s words like gospel when it comes to how I live my life.

If you want something, you gotta work.

No one owes you anything.

I tell my kids all the time that the worst thing they can call themselves is unlucky because it sets the tone for you to believe someone else handles the controls of your life. You fall into a pattern of victimhood.

The quicker you get the idea in your head that adopting that attitude helps nothing, the sooner you’ll start to realize that you aren’t entitled to everything you want just because you want it.

Stop whining. Stop telling everyone how unlucky you are. Realize it has nothing to do with luck, but more to do with the bad decisions you make.

And stop pointing your daggers at the people who are happy because they work hard to have the life they deserve.

Once you take responsibility for yourself, you will see your life and your luck turn around.