October 1, 2014 § Leave a comment
In my mind at least, I see myself bouncing back pretty quickly from failure. I pride myself on being resourceful and persistent, spending a mere 12-24 hours to grieve rejection or disappointment before getting up the next day with my fire renewed and my engine chug chug chugging onwards to my determined goal. Historically in my short little life, I’ve met plenty of failure but I bounce back almost immediately, always scrounging and scampering and scraping things together until they form a decent new plan.
This year has been really rough. All the “You’ll find something…,” “Just be patient!”, “Something good is on its way.” and “This just means the right job hasn’t come up yet!” sayings in the world couldn’t secure me any kind of Big Girl employment. Hell, I couldn’t even get restaurants to call me back; it was just dumb luck I guess that I got hired at the restaurant where I work now. But a restaurant job? Come on, I can’t even put that on my resume.
I’m basically the new boss of the floor now. I’m the only person who works every shift we’re open and I’m one of the only two people who are trained on the register, so I’m basically In Charge. I delegate tasks to the new people and the people we have coming in to pick up random shifts as we struggle to keep a full staff. I’m in charge of to-go orders, bread puddings, alcohol servings, whipped cream, and other food prep assignments that in the past went to Sarah, who recently left to have a baby after working there for years. Considering I just started, what, a month or so ago? This feels like a big step. Good thing I’m ready, willing, and damned able to take it. I delegate better than the other ladies who were heading the floor, so that’s a plus, although I am somewhat particular in the way I want things done (stay as organized and efficient as possible, please!) which is taking longer for people to catch on to.
Anyway, totally not the point. The point is that I can’t allow myself to feel any kind of optimism about my employment status during this shift to Tampa. I feel panicky and in a constant state of anxiety, noting all the jobs I’ve applied for in Florida and how not a single one has called me back. Jason, bless his heart, has been saying the same things my family told me over the 8 months of my unemployment, and I finally had to tell him just to stop saying anything positive because I have 8 months of proof that all that is bullshit. There are no guarantees of a good job in my future. There aren’t even guarantees of shitty jobs that would make me figuratively want to blow my brains out like being a receptionist or (worse?) an executive assistant. I tried like hell to get a job in Birmingham where I grew up and have a plethora of connections and networks, yet I couldn’t get anyone to hire me. How the FUCK am I supposed to get anyone in Tampa (what, 400 miles away? I don’t even know) to hire me?!?!
In the past, I would have been very confident if not cocky. I would have said “Of course I’ll find something! When have I ever not?” because in the past, the longest I’d been unemployed was a month. Maybe two. But now I’ve felt that burn of constant rejection, that building pressure of desperation as the money runs out, that crushing feeling when you realize you, along with so many other Americans, can’t afford to take care of yourself because no one will hire you.
That’s wimpy, though, isn’t it. “Oh, you were unemployed for 8 months in your home town after getting a Master’s degree. Oh, boohoo. So you’re just going to stay in Birmingham and work at the restaurant forever?” Of course not. That’s not who I am. I always keep trying, no matter how many times I get knocked down (13 PhD rejection letters can confirm that). I have to keep trying to make it to Tampa without having to move blind again and hope that I can 1. convince my parents to cosign yet another apartment lease with me so I can have someplace to live without a job after the Bham gamble was a disaster and 2. actually get a job with a decent, livable wage, preferably not a restaurant job though I suppose you have to start somewhere. I’ve certainly learned that a restaurant job is better than being completely unemployed. Plus being unemployed makes me crazy from boredom and cabin fever. There are challenges ahead and my failures constantly haunt me, preventing me from feeling any kind of optimism or opening my heart to any kind of positive words offered to me by my beloved and my family.
The excitement of being in a new city is certainly building though. God, I love being in new places. Finding special little nooks and crannies, new dive bars and breweries, new brunch places and burger joints, new parks and things to do outdoors. Hell, I even appreciate the sunset in different cities and their different landscapes, both urban and country. A new place with a new vibe, new people, new things to explore! I’m beyond thrilled. I’ve loved living in Birmingham and have enjoyed the comfort that comes with being in your hometown, always knowing what places are open when and where to go to get that perfect thing to satisfy whatever you’re craving. You can drive anywhere with very little thought as you run perpetually on autopilot.
But in a new place, you have to pay attention and every time you get lost, you have another adventure, seeing new areas of the city and neighborhoods and finding your favorite streets, your favorite houses, your favorite trees. I haven’t spent much time in Florida beyond the panhandle and it’s one of the few southeastern states that I haven’t lived in (Alabama, Georgia, Tennessee, check check check). I refuse to ever live in Mississippi and I pretend that Arkansas doesn’t exist (because ew). South Carolina is on my list of places to live, albeit likely only for a short while, specifically Charleston, but that can wait along with New Orleans in Louisiana. Florida is uncharted territory for me and I plan to thoroughly explore and enjoy all that it has to offer.
With so many rivers and lakes, I intend to fish on the weekends and eat my haul throughout the week. For the most part, I would be fishing bass and I don’t know how healthy or nutritious it is, but at least I’ll feel better eating something I’ve caught myself. I will be forced to confront my mortal dread of alligators, which many people laugh at for some reason despite the fact that they are damn near perfect predators.
Ah. Slow down, kid. You’re doing it again. Don’t I always have these grand plans whenever I move someplace new? And then I never do them. I spend my freetime in bed watching netflix or staring at the ceiling.
Oh right. THAT’S BECAUSE I WAS DEPRESSED! This will be my first move since I’ve started medication and am on the path to healthiness and happiness so I think I actually will do much of what I hope to do while I’m there like kayak on the bay, lay out on the beach, go deep sea fishing (not often though, cause that’s intense), and fish on the river on the regular. To be fair, I’ve done a hell of a lot in Birmingham from hiking to kayaking to going to festivals to volunteering my ass off. I think Tampa will be a lot of fun, especially since I’ll have the most wonderful man to force to do things with me. We’re still dancing around the living together conversation, or perhaps just I am and he’s totally fine moving down there separately. Either way, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, either when one of us gets a job offer or when I move down there in January when my lease is up. Whatever comes first…
In the meantime, how to fight off the Failure Ghosts? How to trust the people who love me and believe them when they say positive things regarding my employment potential? How do I have faith in them when history has so clearly contradicted everything they promised me? I don’t know. But even if I don’t believe all their positive sayings and irritating optimism, I know that I will continue to press on as I always have, keep fighting for what I want, keep struggling towards the life I wish I had.
September 22, 2014 § Leave a comment
It’s always a dangerous thing to ask me what I’m thinking about. People do it so often, including those who are near and dear to me and thus should know better. I don’t know how other people answer that question because the few times I’ve pulled myself out of my own thoughts to bother asking someone they responded with “Nothing.” in a truthful way.
Jason asks me a lot, and sometimes I tell him the truth and other times I deflect.
Last night I tried to deflect.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Really? You’re asking me that?”
-_- “What specifically about life?”
And so began an unresolvable, slightly tense conversation about our future. We’re moving to Tampa, that’s the one thing we both know for sure. We don’t know when, since the timing of the move will be based solely on when we get job offers, or if all else fails, when grad school starts (for him, the summer. for me, the fall). It’s too early in the relationship still to discuss in any kind of seriousness living together and he’s been just as ambivalent in the things he’s said as I have. We’re both dancing around the subject until the time comes when we need to make a decision or feel like we’re actually in a place to make a decision/discuss options.
We talked about the Peace Corps too. I’m not going to try to go with him; that just doesn’t work with my lifestyle. I take pet ownership as seriously as having children and I don’t want to leave my dogs for 27 months, a decent percentage of their sadly short lives. Given how I do grad school though, I think I’ll hardly notice he’s gone. I’m always so busy, trying to pad my resume as much as possible, use every opportunity to get an internship, get a relevant part-time job, hold leadership positions on campus, etc. Maybe it’ll be better for both of us if we’re apart during that time. He really wants to do Peace Corps, and I can’t help but be a crazy insanely busy person when I’m in school. We’ve both flip flopped a lot about whether we could do long distance for that long, only being able to see each other for a week or so every six months. I found a couple of programs that would let me choose where I go, so in theory I could spend a summer or two semesters abroad where ever he is, but I guess that’s a long shot. And of course there’s always the chance that Peace Corps won’t take him in which case he’s going to try for Doctors Without Borders which is a 6 month term and he’ll plan to do back to back terms. I want him to do whatever he needs to do to be happy, I just wish there was a way we could do it and stay together.
I need to tell him that I love him, but knowing Jason, it would need to be a moment rather than a “oh by the way, I thought you should know…” It’s been on the tip of my tongue for the last few days. I feel too like I should wait until he says it first, just to make sure I’m not alone in this. What good would it do to tell him, though? I just want him to know and I feel like I’m lying by not telling him when I know it clear as day (and have since like our third date). But maybe it would be better, given our shaky and unknown future, to keep quiet so as not to further complicate the decisions and emotions he’s already grappling with.
It’s so weird to have this problem. In the past I’ve been the one leaving and saying either “You can’t come with me.” or “I’m going and you can come, and if you don’t come, we’re over.” Things are much more complex now, filled so many more gray, shadowy areas. Is love enough to keep us together? Can love span the ocean and two years? Seems like a tall order for two people who haven’t yet had a really strong, healthy relationship. But it just takes one, right? I don’t know what’s going to happen with us but I hope we end up happy in the end, particularly if we end up happy together.
I really hope I don’t bail out if things get difficult, more complicated, as a result of our decision to pursue grad school in Florida. I need to grow up and commit. When the going gets tough, the tough get going right?
September 14, 2014 § Leave a comment
Yesterday I went to my first college football game (roll tide!) with my dad, a close family friend, and a prof from UA. it was a fun day and I had a great time. I’ve always been something of a daddy’s girl I think, so I love getting to hanging out with my old man.
I don’t think dad realizes how much his opinion of me matters. After spending all afternoon and evening with him, the one thing that’s overshadowing my memory of that event is dad calling me “weak” on the ride home because I didn’t want to drive him all the way home, suggesting instead that he just spend the night at my place and arrange to get home tomorrow when everyone isn’t tired from a day at the stadium. “What you’re telling me is that you’re weak?” After all that I do, after how much I bust my ass to try to take care of myself, to do good things, to have big plans, to work and work and work to make something of my life, he thinks I’m weak because I don’t want to drive another 1.5 hrs after a long day when there’s really no rush or reason for him to be home that night.
I don’t get a lot of praise from my dad. I’m not needy or anything like that, I certainly don’t need to be praised constantly, but I feel like I’m constantly being critiqued and never recognized by him. In a lot of ways, we’re very similar which definitely leads to some clashes, but I wish like hell that wasn’t the case and I could have a harmonious, positive relationship with him instead like I have with my mother. She always tells me she’s proud of me, even when I’m unemployed and asking them for money. She’s always so careful about being critical of me, choosing to emphasize the positive rather than constantly point out the negative. I don’t have a lifetime of memories of her critiquing me like I do my father.
I’m always surprised and somewhat bewildered when people tell me that I’m “strong” because dad has made me feel weak and small and simple-minded. I don’t know why his voice overrides all the others that tell me positive things, but I’ve always been weird like that with men. Alec told me I have “humble looks” and that I’m “no Angelina Jolie.” Mark told me I had “thick legs” (though he meant it as a compliment) and has a long list of complaints about my personality. I’ve done pretty well about purposefully trying to let go of the negative things Jason said when we broke up because we’re supposed to be starting fresh and moving forward but I can still remember the sting of his words if not the exact things he said.
Maybe I’m just very lucky to have women in my life who are positive and try to support me and my decisions no matter what. The women in my life are so full of love and wisdom, two things they never hold back from me or fail to offer me on any occasion. I feel like I’ve spent my life trying to get dad’s attention, trying to get him to talk to me instead of napping or being absorbed in some piece of technology. Trying like hell to get some kind of approval from him. I remember when I was in high school, dad told me I’d never be a straight A student. When I got straight A’s in college and grad school, his response was “Of course you did. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” When I’m not the best, I just don’t have it in me to be, but when I am the best, I still don’t get approval, I get “Meets Expectations” instead.
Knowing dad, his response to any of this will be “you’re remembering it wrong,” like somehow his memory is infallible and mine is incorrect because it doesn’t align with his. He knows that’s total bullshit, of course, because all memory is a fluid, messy, subjective, and sometimes ever-changing organism. Whether or not something actually happened one way or the other, the significant takeaway is the emotional response to that event, which is something that cannot be right or wrong. You can’t and should not dismiss someone’s emotional response to a memory just because the details of that memory don’t align with yours. That’s like saying “You’re remembering it differently from me so your emotional response is invalid and irrelevant.” He has a long history of doing this with me, so I should probably just let it go instead of letting it continue to upset me.
And people wonder why I’m fucked up. Words matter. Their delivery matters. And unfortunately for me, I constantly seek approval from the men in my life while the women supply it freely and often. Is that just part of a patriarchal society? Am I just a product of the sexism that permeates Western culture? Or is it something specific to me, specific to my personality, upbringing, lived experience, emotional needs? I hate growing up like this has pushed me to the point where when a man says something positive to me, I’m skeptical of it or disregard it as an empty compliment.
I hate that depression is added into this as well, because it only complicates things further. If I talk about my actions, thoughts, emotions, etc. and point to depression as the cause of how warped or messed up they are in reference to “normal” or “appropriate,” they say I’m using it as a crutch. But any time I say that I’m good or healthy, they remind me that I’m still heavily medicated and that my mind is still severely warped by a lifetime of depression. Anytime I get really sad or upset, they point at it and say “See?? You’re not healthy!” instead of realizing that even healthy people have bad days and emotional reactions. Is that a result of Western embedded sexism as well? You can’t trust women to know themselves? You can’t trust women to speak truthfully about how their feeling? You can’t trust women to analyze their emotional reactions and categorize it according to the event or mental illness as they see fit? Or is it not about women at all and much more about the male ego? “I’m right and everyone else is wrong. I see things clearest. I know you better than you know yourself. I know what you’re feeling and why. I know what you’re capable of and what you’re not. I have a penis so I’m all-powerful and all-knowing.” Is that really what the male ego is like?
Sounds like someone needs a solid kick in the balls.
September 13, 2014 § Leave a comment
alec is moving back to birmingham. in two weeks.
September 13, 2014 § Leave a comment
Jason and I worked things out and are better than ever, only spending a couple of nights a week together so that we are both getting our personal/alone time while also having enough time to get our own shit done without the distraction of the other person. it’s working really, really well so far, though I do miss him on our days apart. we’ll be taking a couple of weekend trips together in october, so that will be some nice together time.
he’s decided to apply to grad schools outside of alabama and beyond merely UAB, which is exciting but complicated for “us” as a couple. just for fun, I checked out some of the programs at one of the schools he’s applying to in Florida, just because I’m a nerd and love school way too much, and low and behold…
I’VE FINALLY GOT A PATH TO FOLLOW.
I’m applying to Master’s of Public Administration programs with a plan to either concentrate in non-profit management or earn a graduate certificate as a part of the MPA. why I didn’t think about going to school for non-profit management, I will NEVER know. I think I just thought I could start from the bottom and work my way up, but the evidence of my 8 months of unemployment pretty clearly states that I don’t have the right education or enough experience to make the shift out of the art field and into the broader world of non-profits.
my favorite program right now is the MPA at the University of South Florida, the only program I’ve found so far that offers graduate certificates in both non-profit management and community development, both of which are exactly what I want to pursue. The University of Central Florida offers a dual Master’s degree in public administration and non-profit management, but there’s no community development option. plus, why do I need three Master’s degrees? oh right, following in dad’s footsteps…
anyway, I can’t express to you how FUCKING THRILLED I am to actually have a direction to pursue! goals, plans, opportunities. my mind is constantly running in high gear thinking about what all I need to get done to prep for grad applications and yet another move out of state. strangely, I’m even thinking about just getting a large studio apartment instead of a multi-bedroom place. I’m feeling pretty drawn to open floor plans right now, perhaps a result from constantly having to weave around walls and through doors in my strangely laid out current two bedroom apartment. the studio would have to be significantly larger than my last studio apartment, of course, since I need space for furniture I have and the girls need some room to lounge. but all in all, I’d be okay with a studio apartment for the right square footage.
my biggest challenge right now is finding funding since I refuse to take out xx,xxx in student loans to pay for another graduate degree. I feel like I’m a stellar candidate for the MPA program and for funding because I already have a graduate degree with a 4.0 GPA and I’ve spent my career up until this point working in non-profits.
the main schools I’m looking at are USF, UCF, UNC Chapel Hill, and North Carolina State. UCF and NCSU are nationally ranked for their MPA programs (in the top 25 in the country), but their programs still aren’t as appealing to me as USF because of the community development option.
people have been asking me so often “what do you want to do? what is your dream job?” which I’ve answered with a blank stare and a dumbfounded expression. now that I’m thinking about grad school and all the opportunities that will open up, my mind has been whirring away on what I really want to do. I definitely want to work in a non-profit that aids in community development, but I’m even thinking a bit bigger than that to starting my own non-profit that will combine my love of art with my deep interest in building up communities that are struggling or have been mostly abandoned.
so much of my thinking about community development stems from my life here in Birmingham after I moved back from Dallas. all my volunteer work, all my interest in city developments, all my thinking about the struggling communities like Woodlawn have led me to this point in my life where I’m seeking a distinct career shift away from museums. the more I learn about the Birmingham community, the more I see how disconnected the museum is, how irrelevant the exhibitions are to the average citizen. the exhibitions are rarely grounded in contemporary time, they’re such that they could be shown at any moment in a 20 year or more span, and they would have the same impact on people. there’s no real interest in the people beyond the walls of the museum, reaching out to new audiences, showing people something new. exhibitions are designed for the people who pay for them and curate them. god, how fucked up is that.
I’ve been thinking a lot about a non-profit that addresses the issue of empty buildings in urban areas. Birmingham has so many of them and they make the city feel partially abandoned, drab, and rundown. it’s not an inspiring, energetic atmosphere like it needs to be to thrive. my idea is to put those storefront windows to use displaying local artists’ works or small-scale murals that focus on specific organizations or neighborhoods in the broader metro area. the goal is to inject life into those empty buildings through generating visual interest and directing attention to the Local, to local people, neighborhoods, and organizations that the common city person might not know about or might have misconceptions about. my hope is that these displays will encourage more exchange between the urban and suburban, between art and the average joe, and between other non-profits and the city.
I think deep down, my desire is to return to Birmingham, maybe not immediately following my graduation from an MPA program, but not too long after that. this city needs help and I think the millenials are the generation to really step up and start fixing the mess that the previous generations have left for us to clean up or drown in. we’re an insanely driven group of young people who just need to get some financial stability so we can really start doing what we want to do, working where we want to work, and fixing the things that desperately need fixing.
I feel full of hope and excitement about this new turn in my life. this feels like exactly what I’m supposed to be doing and exactly the direction I should be going in.
things feel so right.
August 28, 2014 § 1 Comment
Tears are streaming down your face, when you lose something you can’t replace.
When you try your best but you don’t succeed.
Could it be worse?
Jason dumped me. We fought too much, he said. We were too serious too soon, he said (it takes two to tango). I begged him to change his mind, to reconsider, but so far, not much response. He didn’t say absolutely not, so I assume he’s thinking it over, but I may never get an answer so I should brace myself for that and try to let go.
It’s funny how breakups make you feel like you’re dying, like literally dying as your torso is ripping and tearing itself apart from the inside. I broke down at work in the alley way. No one saw, but Haley sent me home early because I think she could tell. I kept it together during my second shift, but the manager could tell something was wrong. I said I was just really tired. She sent me home early. I hate that my emotions are written all over my face when I’m ready to collapse on the floor in a puddle of tears, snot, and hyperventilating. Guess it’s good there’s a three day weekend coming up? I can lie on my floor all day if I want to. Wouldn’t that be healthy.
I should stay busy, right? Think about other things? When has that ever worked for anyone when they’re completely heartbroken over fucking up the best thing that had ever happened to them. The fights were all my fault for the most part, of course. I’m such a mess. I have so many issues. If Jason can’t handle me, I’m pretty sure I’ll always be alone. I’m going to die alone after a life spent struggling with loneliness and isolation. Two months of happiness. That’s all I get? I guess it’s all I deserve.
Bill collectors have started calling me multiple times a day, like I somehow magically have the money since they called the day before. I just ignore them since I can’t pay them, but it raises the stress levels a lot.
I can’t believe this is my life. I worked SO. HARD. to make a good life for myself, to lay a strong foundation for my future success and financial stability, but here I am, working at a restaurant and picking up extra shifts to try to cover all my late fees for the bills I haven’t paid in months. My lease is up in January and unless some miracle happens, I will probably have to live in some shit hole apartment run by a slum lord because my credit score is likely so low now that no decent place will take me.
A restaurant, Alexa? A RESTAURANT? It’s like I’m 15 again, except back then it was cool to work in a restaurant. Now I just feel beaten, forced into it out of desperation because no other job would take me. All that hope, all that work, all for nothing. I’m 26 with years of experience, a stellar set of skills, and a graduate degree, and I’m bussing tables and handing out food. This isn’t who I am. This isn’t what my life is supposed to be.
And now I have nothing. Jason was really the only thing keeping me going. And now that’s over and done with. Will he change his mind? Who knows. I don’t know. I doubt it. Why would he? I’m awful to date. I’m a crazy train. I will always be alone. I don’t know how to fix things. Go see a counselor? When has that ever helped. Plus I don’t have the money. I don’t know what to do. It’s hard to see a way forward when your eyes are so full of tears. How could I have screwed up something so wonderful. How can I be back at a restaurant, as if the last ten years never happened. What kind of future can I have if this is my life now? Where do I go from here. What do I do.
August 14, 2014 § Leave a comment
Jobs jobs jobs
Money money money
Persistent problems in my life.
I currently work part-time at a restaurant. Clearly that isn’t going to pay rent.
Today I had an interview at the Humane Society which I think went really well. I could even swing my schedule so that I could still work two days at the restaurant while still being full-time at the animal shelter. The problem is that even working full-time at the shelter, I’ll only be making $900 or so each month after taxes. Which is means I could have just applied to AmeriCorps when I first moved home because that’s the same amount of money (or lack there of). Clearly, that isn’t going to work considering my rent is $850 and I’m drowning in bills and late fees because I’ve been unemployed for 8 months.
So I’m fucked. Even if I get that full-time job, I’m fucked.
UAB wouldn’t even interview me for a measly Admissions Counselor job for reasons I still can’t get from the person in charge of hiring for that position. It’s absurd, beyond absurd.
There’s a part-time job that pays something like $14-16/hr that I REALLY REALLY WANT (not just for the money, mind you!) but so far I haven’t heard anything, which doesn’t bode well. That job could significantly help my money problems, though, especially if I was working full-time at the Humane Society and then working two days a week at that part-time job. Like, for serious — I would be doing decently well. I desperately need that part-time job. I’ll email the guy on Monday to check in.
I hate feeling so panicky about money. It’s like someone’s constantly squeezing the air out of your chest, pressing in on all sides. The late fees piling up just makes the light at the end of the tunnel all the more distant. I can’t believe — I CANNOT BELIEVE — it’s taken me this long to get a job. And all I have is a part-time restaurant job for $8/hr and the potential of a second job at a grand $8.50/hr. Just a few years ago, I was enjoying a paycheck of $1,100 every two weeks. Hell, even when I was working part-time at that job, I still earned $770 per paycheck (after taxes, too). Am I a victim of the recession? One of those tragic millenials who busted their asses through college, did all the right things, but still end up back in Mom and Dad’s basement? We worked so hard and all we have to show for it is an eviction notice, an abysmal credit score, an empty bank account, and embarrassed, burdened parents.
Or am I a casualty of hubris? I made the decision to leave Dallas, to leave the museum field. I decided to move back to Birmingham practically on a whim. I got a fantastic apartment that I thought I deserved and wrongly assumed I’d be able to pay for, what with years of experience, a graduate degree, and a shitload of connections in my hometown. I’m a fool, aren’t I. Gambled too big and am about to lose it all. Too late for regrets. Too late for shoulda, woulda, couldas. I made what I thought was a solid, reasonable decision at the time and now I just have to deal with it when I sink with this ship.
I’m trying to remember how I made it financially in Dallas… I only made $8.50 an hour, but somehow stayed afloat. I had a second job, true, but I don’t remember working too terribly much extra. Memory is a foggy thing. I’m probably just messed up in the brain. God, I miss the days of a salary and great benefits. Did my boss make me miserable? Yes. So should I have stayed at that job? No. But dammit, I cry sometimes thinking about all that I gave up in DC. My life could have been so incredibly different from what it is now. But I guess life is always better in our fantasies, isn’t it. Reality isn’t welcome there.
It’s better to focus on the right now and the immediate future, and the right now is pretty gripping anyway. I have some spaghetti left but nothing to go with or on top of it, and I have a frozen pizza in the freezer I’ve been saving. I’m probably going to have to eat it tonight. I’ve also got half a box of raisin bran but I think it’s really old. I’ll save that for more desperate times.
Jason keeps asking me, “If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?” and for the first time in my life, I’ve got absolutely nothing to say. No idea. I just stare at him blankly before telling him I hate that question. I’m so preoccupied with money problems, it’s hard to play pretend like that, pretend like I could ever get a job I might like and can survive on the pay. When people find out I’m looking for a job, they always ask, “What do you want to do?” To which I reply, “Anything. I just really need a job.” It’s true, isn’t it? I’m not out to be picky. I need money in the bank. I need my bank account to not be in the negatives. I’d like to pay my bills on time and buy real food and get wine from the top shelf at Aldi instead of the bottom. That’s what I want.
But that’s not true, is it? There are plenty of jobs I pass over because I know I’ll be bored. I’ve applied to a large number of administrative assistant jobs (which I’ve never been called in for an interview for, I should add) that I secretly hoped I wouldn’t get. I’d rather be poor than hate my job like that. Ah, arrogance. Ah, ambition. I guess I’m not truly a beggar yet.
I just don’t want to be miserable. Is that so much to ask? Is that too much to ask of my life and the world? I just don’t want to be miserable. I don’t want to hate my life for 40+ hours every week because I’m bored out of my skull at a job that pays well but sucks the life and excitement out of me. And of course, I don’t want to keep living paycheck to paycheck or in the constant fear of debt collectors and landlords banging on doors for late rent checks. I don’t want to keep living in the anxiety of the poor, wondering how many meals I can get out of a $5 Little Caesar’s Hot and Ready pizza because I only have $5 to eat on for the week. Why can’t there be a compromise in that? An above-minimum wage job that I don’t mind doing? Does that exist? Do I deserve it? Can I convince someone that I’m not overqualified, or even if I am (because we all know I am), that I plan on staying in that job for a while?
Why can’t I get a decent job? How much longer can this go on.