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Wednesday, May 13, 2009


I'm trying to write something for work, and it's just crap. It's already late because I forgot about it and because I didn't actually go to the meeting that I'm covering (remind me sometime to tell you about the city government reporter who worked with me at the newspaper). Anyhow, this is not a great article.

I'm beginning to wonder about the writing thing. I wonder if I really am good at it. I thought I had a freelance gig lined up, but they never contacted me after I submitted my work samples. Maybe I'm not good at this at all. Other freelance jobs I've looked at aren't going to pan out, because I refuse to spend hours working on a project with no set fee. Or worse yet, a fee that doesn't make it worth my time. I have heard rumors about writers being asked to work for $2 an hour, and I could hardly believe it, but now I have seen it with my own eyes.

I never planned to get rich being a writer. I just wanted to get by, maybe meet some interesting people along the way, and I've done that, even if it means right now that I sell toys to little children to make ends meet. However, that's not going well either right now, and I am just not sure what to do.

I'm at a crossroads. I don't know what I do or where I go next. One thing's for sure, there aren't a lot of jobs for writers, especially ones where you can actually make money. I'm lucky to have a good job, but I don't know how much longer that will last. And I'm not sure what that means when I'm getting 4 hours a week at Toyland.

I've canceled my trip to Florida because I can't afford to go. I'm trying to figure out if there's a way to get out of having a birthday party this weekend, but I haven't figured it out yet. Just more money I don't want to spend. I'm really starting to panic.

And the more I look at that stupid new car the more I get pissed at myself for buying it. Not like I can do anything about that. The old one has been sold. If it hadn't, I'd be selling the new one at a loss to not have to worry about fucking money all the time.

I guess I need to be a grown-up, which is going to mean making a lot of grown-up decisions. I suspect this is going to be quite unpleasant. But I already feel like everything is generally unpleasant right now, so I guess it doesn't matter.

I'm in a funk. A funk that birthday presents can't fix. I just don't care right now. I'm so mad that I don't get to see my brother and one of my best friends. I'm so mad that I'm stuck with a car that I resent with all the marrow in my bones. I hate all the stupid idiots who have gotten our country into this trouble it's in.

Someone told me that I need to stop seeing the glass half empty, but I just don't even get how I'm supposed to do that these days.

And besides, as long as I can afford tissues, it's just easier to cry all the time.

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