An Avenue Q type of moment

I wish I knew Gary Coleman, because then my life would seem better. It seems to make the puppets feel better, so I suppose it would make me feel better. So Gary, come and visit me. We’ll be the best of buddies.

My energy is running low, I suppose, and the tension that I haven’t able to acquire a job is also building up. Apathy is setting in, so I better get off my ass and start getting down and dirty for that job before my career - which, to this day, is still really unknown to me, because, as I said earlier, I’d love to be a teacher, but I’m not sure if I would be allowed to resign my contract after my first year.

I wonder if someone like Wayne will walk into my life and give me a quasi-adventure of a job like tearing out the cooper wiring of a flood ruined house, while some  red-head sails in the sky, completely nude:

“This boat was pulling behind itself a tremendous triangular kite on a rope. From the kite, up in the air a hundred feet or so, a woman was suspended, belted in somehow, I would have guessed. She had long red hair. She was delicate and white, and naked except for her beautiful hair. I don’t know what she was thinking as she floated past these ruins.

‘What’s she doing?’ was all I could say, thought we could see that she was flying.

‘Now, that is a beautiful sight,’ Wayne said.”

Though, I think I could live without the heroin.  Not mention, I can really live without the name Fuck Head.

Some times, though, I wish I had stayed in college instead of just accepting my degree and taking this much needed break. Last year went by like a flicker of a candle light. Now that I look back, there could’ve been so many things that I could’ve done differently, and I really wish I had taken that second path instead of the well-traveled one. However, it is now really too late to think of that, and taking that path now will only admit to backtracking. However, that doesn’t cancel the idea of going to college 100%.

And looking for writing gigs is killing me because, like all things in life, I only have a minimum background in that. And there’s always the waiting period, the selling of one’s soul. Journalism isn’t really my niche because it’s the dumbfuck’s writing, however, I may only be jaded by The Monitor, owned by Freedom Communications.

Anyway, jumping out of this poor man’s skin of mine, I’m going to talk about something else. Sadly, I haven’t a single though of what that’s going be.

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Now playing: Original Cast - There’s a Fine, Fine Line
via FoxyTunes

Assurance

I’ve fallen sick. The tightness in my arm was too much for me to take. I went to the doctor and he gave me pills. So forgive me if I sound like I’m under the influence of something, but I am.

I have a few drafts of blogs saved here. “Reading in South Texas,” and “Holiday Catholics.” Apparently, I also have on entitled “In Response to Russ,” who made a comment on my first post here. It’s unlikely that one will make it to be posted.

I’m not sure what’s going to on with me. I took the pills and I’m drowsy. The doctor said it might be a muscle thing, so he prescribed me these muscle relaxers, but for all I know they’re placebos. However, they knocked me out of for an hour and I think I’m going back to bed soon. I have a blood test scheduled tomorrow, though I’m not really scheduled as it is strictly walk in and it’s only $25 to get. This just means, I’m getting a $275 discount.

I need to know if this is a serious thing or if I can let it go already and find something else to complain about. Every time I get the tightness, I begin to panic, which makes it worse. I’m not sure if it’s part of the symptoms of whatever I have, or if it’s my anxiety of something could be seriously wrong with me. Without insurance, I’m pretty much screwed with today’s bill and the follow up’s bill. I need a job and some cheap insurance.

Sorry, but that’s all I have for you guys.

Bad bad bad bad!!!

Two months ago, actually over two months, I graduated from college thinking that the world was before me. No one told me that it was traveling over a hundred miles per hour, leaving me in its trail and dust. Today, I wiped the coat of desert off my coat and went in search for a job. Most of my success of find a place is through the internet (wonderful piece of device). I’m not going through Career Builder and Monster because all their recommendations suck ass. Apparently an English degree gives you the same advantages as a high school diploma and GED in the Valley. Zero jobs. Not even The Monitor (though I would loathe to work with them) is hiring any writers or editors (which, to be frank, they could desparatedly–that’s misspelled on purpose, by the way–use the latter).

I want to be a serious writer, but in this day and age, there are no such things. I know that the informal nature of my blog proves that I might not be that great, but I don’t have much structure for something I do for free. If I was getting paid for this, I’d actually take my time to structure it in a way that would make people laugh or cry or think about better days.

I just want to be read.

So today, I waltz over to the City and drop off three applications and one resume (because they’re going to the same job listing, I really thought it was pointless for me to attach three separate resumes). I went over to the University of Texas-Pan American, and dropped off an application there as well as a resume. At this point, I just want a job, not a career. I want to return to school, so I don’t need the hassle of trying to balance homework and real work. Part-time, that’s all I ask for.

Now it’s the waiting game. I don’t like calling to see if the applications gone through because last time I did that–I gave at least a week before calling in again–I never heard from them. So now I’m just going to play the waiting game. I suppose we’ll see.