So, my friends have been tormenting me about blogging more. My argument is that I didn't want this blog to be a journal where I piss and moan about how much life sucks. However, I've got nothin' else going on, and people seem to think that this type of writing is more "real." Thus, I've folded. Here ya go:
I am actually so broke right now that I can't afford to work. I booked a promo job in Chicago for today, but I literally only have change to my name right now. I can't fill up my gas tank with change or pay $30/day to park in the city. I can buy a train ticket in change, but then I have to worry about getting 2 miles to and from my destination, meals, emergencies, etc. If they paid cash, it would be okay, but I won't see a pay check (as good as it may be) for 6-8 weeks. Which, brings me to my next point: Although they pay incredibly well, I HATE doing promotions. They are so boring and tiring that a chimp would actually be more qualified to work them. I take that back, what's a dumb animal that won't mind the boredom? I'm pretty sure a chimp would bail out after like 15 minutes.
On top of having a degree that cost me $80 grand, which I won't ever be able to pay back, and not being able to find a job with it, I am living back at home with my mom and brother. Approximately every two weeks, she calls to pass along all of my brother's complaints about having me, my partner, and our two dogs living under the same roof as him. Lately, she's been pressing the I'm worried about your future line b/c, well, it's valid. She's not planning on living much longer and can't afford her own lifestyle, let alone ours. Thus, it makes sense to worry about how I'm going to survive, especially since my bro desperately wants us out. Who cares that I do dishes twice daily, wash everyone's laundry, and continuously follow them around picking up all the shit that they absentmindedly leave in their wake? That doesn't make up for the fact that the oven, lawnmower, and air conditioning are all broken (at no fault of anyone in the house), and no one has money to pay to get them fixed. Who cares that I apply for dozens of jobs every week but can't so much as get an interview? Shit - make that a rejection letter.
I could go on and on, but I think you get the point. Until my next mood swing....
