Tethered

Last night I stayed up way too late thinking about all of the things that I was going to do today. I sat in my bed with a my notebook that I usually write comic book scripts and story ideas in and made a list of things that I was planning on doing today, and began to think that today (Wednesday) was the last day this week that I could work on my writing for any sustained period of time. The weekend would be here, and with that came me trying as hard as I could to spend as much time with Jessie as I could while making the hour-long drive to work. I’m tired just thinking about it.

It was in those late hours trying to organize my day into shifts of writing that I wanted to do for money and writing that I wanted to do for myself that I realized something.

I realized that I hate my job.  That’s a frightening feeling.

Don’t get me wrong, working for Corporate Book Mart is a fine job that has helped me out a lot and I wouldn’t mind working there for a few more months until I can find something else, but sometimes it wears on me.

I’m thirty two, married and hoping to have a child and buy a house in the next year, and yet I’m still working the same type of job that I did when I was eighteen, playing bass guitar and dreaming of the day when I would be a professional touring musician.  Not a lot has changed about me has changed in that time (with the exception that I now get paid occasionally to interview professional touring musicians).

I am not trying to turn this blog into a pity party, because I don’t mean it that way. I just know that while my career hasn’t exactly taken off the way that I imagined (I always thought that I would’ve lucked into a staffer position at a small newspaper by now), that it doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t be able to contribute more to my household.

I really hate the idea of jobs. I hate feeling tied into something that is not where my brains and my talents reside. I know, I know, big deal. I’m lucky to have anything, especially in this economy. But a boy with a blog can dream can’t he?

So today I went and applied for a job that is a bit more grown up than what I’m doing now. The worst part is that I get so down when I start job hunting. I feel overwhelmed by my lack of options, underwhelmed by the reality of the jobs out there, and like a flat our greedy pig for wanting more money.

But I did it. I applied for a job that looks like a decent job and we’ll see what happens from here. I’m trying not to get my hopes up about it, but I feel like I am going to put some effort into pestering the people there and letting them know that I can do the job and that I wouldn’t be too much of a pain if they let me.

That’s all I can do, right?

Sometimes I wonder if I worry about what I don’t want to do for a living so much that I have no focus on what I do want to do for a living.  It seems to be my typical modus operandi- keeping my head down and being sour on everything without thinking about the positives and my goals. Because of that, I made a list of what I want professionally. It looked something like this:

• I want to write about something.  Whether it be music, comics, culture or just the sandwich that I had for lunch, I want to be able to put my thoughts down on a piece of paper (or computer screen) and have them effect people. I would also like money for this. Not a lot. I don’t want to be rich, but wouldn’t some money be okay? If I made a comparable salary to what Jessie makes I would be happy.
• I want to be able to tell my stories. I feel like I’ve lived a life full of funny incidents and accidents and I would love to write them all down in a place and have them collected. I would like to be paid for this. Once again, an amount of money similar to what my wife makes would be okay, although I would take far less to do this if I were making money writing about something.
• I want to write comic books. I want to write about super heroes and have 10 year-olds and 40 year-old virgins get excited over something I created for their favorite characters. I would also like money for this. It would be nice if it was the amount that I’d stated earlier, and I would definitely take less to do this if I were making more money at either of the other two writing options I’ve previously listed.

That’s all that I want out of this world.  I’m sorry that it is so wrapped up in money. I hate it that I have to combine commerce with my skill, but unfortunately that’s the way the world works now. I feel as if feeling guilty will be the easiest way to stay conscious of the fact that my goals in life are to either write about my mail, write about things that have already happened to me in a way that is interesting to people whom I don’t know and don’t really care about the things that have already happened to them, or to write fan fiction for Disney or Time Warner.

I feel better now that I have written this out. I feel as though I’ve made my goals be known to the few people that read this blog. Now what that helps and why it makes me feel better, I can’t say, but sometimes a feeling is a good supplement for the real thing. If you don’t believe me, then you should masturbate sometime. It’s especially nice, although not as nice as when you were younger and discovered it. Or if you are a little drunk.

I know that I’ve spent this entire blog going on about how I’d like the words that come from my brain to my arms and out my fingers onto a keyboard to one day cost money, but I don’t really want any money from you guys for reading this. I hope that is cool.   It would be nice if you read this and posted a comment, however.

Until later,

Be good