Monday, November 08, 2004

...the weather matches my mood. Gray. Cloudy. Overcast. It's that kind of day in my brain. Between 4 more years of Bush and my ongoing and, to date, fruitless search for a job, I must admit I'm not really in my happy place. Torn between my desire to make enough money to buy a house and my desire to save the world, I find I can't do either. Non-profits will only pay for Administrative Assistants (for which I'm overqualified) or Executive Directors (for which I'm underqualified). And in the business world, there's nothing going of any interest. Oh yeah, there are jobs, but one of the reasons why I quit IBM is because I was tired of working for just a paycheck. I need more. I need to feel like I'm doing something, not just taking up space. After having taken that stand, do I really want to go write tech manuals for a hardware company? Aside from the fact that the work and the industry (sorry geeks) sound deadly would be just another paycheck.

I want the impossible. I want to make a living as an artist. I want to be creative. I want to fight the forces of evil. And yes, dammit, I want a house!

So it's gray in my head. And outside.

Anyone want to hire a depressed writer?