Did someone say job?
Here's what I've been thinking about lately: I have been wondering about my life plan. Wasn't I supposed to be something other than a volunteer, occasional blogger, wannabe writer and unemployed attorney by the time I turned 31? Well, I am married, and that's an achievement. I have a dog, and she is well-trained. I have a decent education under my belt, but it isn't really working for me at this point. Still, I pay my student loans, and that gives me the opportunity to remember how comfortable I was in school, knowing that a few years out of law school, I would be settled and satisfied in a career that would be emotionally rewarding, if not financially so. Wait, that didn't work.
Well, here I am! Hello! Yeah! This is it! Life!
Today, I have spent the majority of my day watching training videos that will enable me to volunteer with an organization for whom I would much rather just WORK. But that's cool, I can do the volunteer gig. Today, I also did a bit of writing which I will share with my new writers' group. That's cool too. See, it's just easier to join a writers' group than to actually figure out how the hell I am supposed to share my work in a manner that might earn a penny or two. Maybe it's also my way of further looking after the public interest. I don't want to impose some crapass writing to anyone unless I have to tolerate his crapass writing as well. Quid pro quo.
Finally, I found some dustballs, swept them up, and did some yoga. That's the day. Life!
So, what the hell am I doing with my life? Here's the funny part: when I consider the stuff that I am doing, I am largely content. I appreciate a loving relationship in a lovely house with a loyal dog. As a volunteer, I have personally helped quite a few people take a couple stable steps into the future that they might not have been able to take without me. I enjoy sitting for hours writing short stories that eventually end and get filed away, awaiting a reader, or not. I am happy to take notes through hours of training videos because I know the work will be interesting, and the money really doesn't mean too much, except that it's expensive to live in America, and our bills ain't cheap, and I would like to think that my husband and I may actually get to retire together someday, assuming I ever come out of retirement again. So, I am pleased and content and that's great. But I still feel there's something-- pride, attention, intellectual networking-- that is missing. Or, is it something different? Maybe it is just the extra couple thousand bucks I could bring in every month as a working public interest attorney. Maybe that really is all that I'm missing. Just the green. The benjamins.
This job search is turning into a joke, in my mind, between little bouts of sobbing and despondency. I may yet cultivate some sort of entrepreneurial interest. Or, watch out, I may figure out how to get someone to pay me for writing crapass shit. Yeah. Hello. Oh damn. Did I really just write "benjamins?"
Well, here I am! Hello! Yeah! This is it! Life!
Today, I have spent the majority of my day watching training videos that will enable me to volunteer with an organization for whom I would much rather just WORK. But that's cool, I can do the volunteer gig. Today, I also did a bit of writing which I will share with my new writers' group. That's cool too. See, it's just easier to join a writers' group than to actually figure out how the hell I am supposed to share my work in a manner that might earn a penny or two. Maybe it's also my way of further looking after the public interest. I don't want to impose some crapass writing to anyone unless I have to tolerate his crapass writing as well. Quid pro quo.
Finally, I found some dustballs, swept them up, and did some yoga. That's the day. Life!
So, what the hell am I doing with my life? Here's the funny part: when I consider the stuff that I am doing, I am largely content. I appreciate a loving relationship in a lovely house with a loyal dog. As a volunteer, I have personally helped quite a few people take a couple stable steps into the future that they might not have been able to take without me. I enjoy sitting for hours writing short stories that eventually end and get filed away, awaiting a reader, or not. I am happy to take notes through hours of training videos because I know the work will be interesting, and the money really doesn't mean too much, except that it's expensive to live in America, and our bills ain't cheap, and I would like to think that my husband and I may actually get to retire together someday, assuming I ever come out of retirement again. So, I am pleased and content and that's great. But I still feel there's something-- pride, attention, intellectual networking-- that is missing. Or, is it something different? Maybe it is just the extra couple thousand bucks I could bring in every month as a working public interest attorney. Maybe that really is all that I'm missing. Just the green. The benjamins.
This job search is turning into a joke, in my mind, between little bouts of sobbing and despondency. I may yet cultivate some sort of entrepreneurial interest. Or, watch out, I may figure out how to get someone to pay me for writing crapass shit. Yeah. Hello. Oh damn. Did I really just write "benjamins?"
posted by your friend at Monday, March 20, 2006
1 Comments:
Hey Meg, I saw some women tearing through slow freeway snarls in minivans with the fervor of rabid roadrunners...so don't give me the bit line about men in minivans...I used to drive one like that! SF sounds rough. Don't tell those landlord people about your trip to Fiji though. It will make them figit with Bula wonder over coffee-ground mock-deference. I'm missing those bacon and waffle type slow yank morning bfasts more and more by the minute. There's times when I wish I was in an LL Cool Coocoon J Song and going back to CAli with its stuffed indolent Dems and it's stuffed lordly Repubs.. Impossible to resolve anything there when nobody cares! Here, if a politician says something about arabs, a suburb goes up in flames! It's great! Best thing is a view of the bonfires from the train as you go tearing through the countryside at 200+mphs. Miss our chattage...and anxious to hear more dirt on everybody and everything there. Someday I'll write a book. Now there's an idea. Your blog reminded me of a scene or two from I [heart] Hucakabees a bit.
Post a Comment
<< Home