I'm jobless.
Okay, that isn't perfectly fitted: I have a job. I just don't work at the job. My boss is in Africa (!) right now, on a humanitarian trip with her daughter. But, with my boss gone, the work can't really go forward.
I haven't worked for months now.
It's starting to wear at me.
There are a number of considerations to compute, so many that listing them seems mundane and bootless. I'm actually ranting in this post, as a matter of fact. I have no thesis, I have no point...
...and it feels as though that's the point. That's my frustration. That's my worry. That's my fear.
I feel as if I am a barnacle on my family. Isn't that a sad confession? The worth of souls may be great, but the worth of Steve? Well, not so much. Sure, I provide emotional support to my wife through my presence. Precious Peter gets another pair of hands to change diapers and pick him up when he gets fussy.
But there's no remediation for my situation...it all feels unconscionable. I don't even know what I mean by that, save that I'm stuck waiting for a potential part-time job (part-time!) and I'm waiting on nails to see if I get it. The summer is heating up, our savings are depleting, and my microcosmic life of the nation, economy, and general sentiment for the pending disasters that await (read: '08 elections) makes me feel more self-piteous than anything else.
For a good long time, I've felt like there really was something of value that I had/have to offer society. Some people are content in complacency and convenient living. I, too, prefer convenience and content to other possibilities, but using my talents to improve lives (mine, others', what-have-you) has always been part of what I wanted to do.
I can't do that now.
It's looking more and more as though I'm destined to fight a harsh civil war: what I wish (and know I'm capable) to do, and the responsibility that I have for others, regardless of my own desires.
I don't know what to do.
Even writing has escaped me, as evidenced by this bleak, poorly written post. I was hoping to jump start my muse and get something written.
Naught.
Blah.
I'm done...
Okay, that isn't perfectly fitted: I have a job. I just don't work at the job. My boss is in Africa (!) right now, on a humanitarian trip with her daughter. But, with my boss gone, the work can't really go forward.
I haven't worked for months now.
It's starting to wear at me.
There are a number of considerations to compute, so many that listing them seems mundane and bootless. I'm actually ranting in this post, as a matter of fact. I have no thesis, I have no point...
...and it feels as though that's the point. That's my frustration. That's my worry. That's my fear.
I feel as if I am a barnacle on my family. Isn't that a sad confession? The worth of souls may be great, but the worth of Steve? Well, not so much. Sure, I provide emotional support to my wife through my presence. Precious Peter gets another pair of hands to change diapers and pick him up when he gets fussy.
But there's no remediation for my situation...it all feels unconscionable. I don't even know what I mean by that, save that I'm stuck waiting for a potential part-time job (part-time!) and I'm waiting on nails to see if I get it. The summer is heating up, our savings are depleting, and my microcosmic life of the nation, economy, and general sentiment for the pending disasters that await (read: '08 elections) makes me feel more self-piteous than anything else.
For a good long time, I've felt like there really was something of value that I had/have to offer society. Some people are content in complacency and convenient living. I, too, prefer convenience and content to other possibilities, but using my talents to improve lives (mine, others', what-have-you) has always been part of what I wanted to do.
I can't do that now.
It's looking more and more as though I'm destined to fight a harsh civil war: what I wish (and know I'm capable) to do, and the responsibility that I have for others, regardless of my own desires.
I don't know what to do.
Even writing has escaped me, as evidenced by this bleak, poorly written post. I was hoping to jump start my muse and get something written.
Naught.
Blah.
I'm done...
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