Turns out that the guy with the so-called "marketing position" lied. No salary or benefits. Just a telemarketing job that paid $8.50 per hour.
Driving home, I considered just driving through 66 until I reached the mountains, and then laying down on the ground to watch the clouds go by. It's gotten to the point where I'm too buried in depression that I don't cry, anymore. I just come home and cook dinner. Then I send resume after resume like a robot, before writing a thousand words for my novel. Then I go to sleep.
Today will be no different. I'm gonna go help my guitarist paint a house, make a few dollars for grocery money, and contemplate what life would have been like if I'd just gone to medical school like I really should have. I could be training to be a plastic surgeon, right now... what the hell was I thinking? Being an artist blows.
5 comments:
Sometimes life really blows :(
Sorry. I'm trying to send good vibes your way.
my guess is you are an artist because the thought of not expressing your gift makes you physically ill... it's not so much a choice as a need... hang in there
Thanks for the good vibes. At least I made a few bucks painting, today!
Oh dear Nina, there is not much to say except that I am sorry for the rough times you are having. I hope things turn for you soon.
Post a Comment