brush the dust off the ramen
While I'm brushing myself off, looking back at the mini spiral left lingering of the whirlwind that my life has been in and out of. The past few months have been a blur, time stalls but then speeds up at the most inopportune moments. It's been a hot, hot summer.
I'm 29 years old. I'm flat broke. I talk myself out of feeling like a complete failure on pretty much a daily basis. It's realistic to accept that I could've done something more with myself thus far than I have. But at the same time I try not to let thoughts like that hinder progression of making something of the present. I have been putting in more job applications than I can keep track of but so far only one call for an interview. Target. I applied for an HR assistant position and an inventory specialist as a secondary choice, they offered me a job working the snack bar... making popcorn and hot dogs. I'm not above that but honestly how long before I began to feel I wasn't doing anything meaningful with my life? I'd imagine not long at all. I didn't have food service experience but otherwise I was overqualified. The lady interviewing me asked in passing how I felt about hats, being candid I was honest and mentioned I didn't care much for them, they didn't really look right on me. At the end of the interview she told me a hat would have been part of the uniform. I think a combination of things about that interview left me feeling mortified. I have a hard time keeping blank expressions. They knew I wasn't a good fit for what they were offering. I was willing to give it a try but I realize it's for the best.
I've had to resort to my dad and my ex-boyfriend helping me pay bills. Now a new months worth of past due notices are piling up. My license is about to be suspended because I stopped paying my car insurance. I didn't really have a choice, the funds aren't there. I'm going on two months late for my car payment. I've applied for temporary food assistance, something I never thought I'd have to do. It was easier to get a job when I was in high school than it is now. A lady at one of the local temp agencies said that the last job opening she had received over 500 applicants and even though she had absolutely no jobs available her jewels of wisdom were "Don't give up". That's not even an option. Brian wants me out of his house, he's not happy about me not paying him. I counted up the coins in a piggy bank I had been contributing to now and then over the last 7 years or so... 11 dollars. Eleven dollars. If this isn't rock bottom it's getting very close. Good news is, only way from there is up, right? That's what I've heard anyway.
It's hard for me to admit to this, it's humiliating actually. I partially blame my mom, all the promises of how well the studio would be doing and all the photo shoots she'd set me up with. And then the few shoots that get scheduled she turns around and cancels. I've literally become a starving artist. A college graduate who can't pay back my student loan. I find myself feeling detached because well let's face it, how is this a desirable state. I can't imagine this is the sort of description a guy looks for when seeking out a lady.
In short, there's still a bunch of ramen in the back of the cupboard. Riding out a recession with pre-packaged dry pasta with that oh so flavorful seasoned powder. I keep telling myself it could be worse. Because after all, it could be worse. Somehow. I just hope it gets better before then.
I'm 29 years old. I'm flat broke. I talk myself out of feeling like a complete failure on pretty much a daily basis. It's realistic to accept that I could've done something more with myself thus far than I have. But at the same time I try not to let thoughts like that hinder progression of making something of the present. I have been putting in more job applications than I can keep track of but so far only one call for an interview. Target. I applied for an HR assistant position and an inventory specialist as a secondary choice, they offered me a job working the snack bar... making popcorn and hot dogs. I'm not above that but honestly how long before I began to feel I wasn't doing anything meaningful with my life? I'd imagine not long at all. I didn't have food service experience but otherwise I was overqualified. The lady interviewing me asked in passing how I felt about hats, being candid I was honest and mentioned I didn't care much for them, they didn't really look right on me. At the end of the interview she told me a hat would have been part of the uniform. I think a combination of things about that interview left me feeling mortified. I have a hard time keeping blank expressions. They knew I wasn't a good fit for what they were offering. I was willing to give it a try but I realize it's for the best.
I've had to resort to my dad and my ex-boyfriend helping me pay bills. Now a new months worth of past due notices are piling up. My license is about to be suspended because I stopped paying my car insurance. I didn't really have a choice, the funds aren't there. I'm going on two months late for my car payment. I've applied for temporary food assistance, something I never thought I'd have to do. It was easier to get a job when I was in high school than it is now. A lady at one of the local temp agencies said that the last job opening she had received over 500 applicants and even though she had absolutely no jobs available her jewels of wisdom were "Don't give up". That's not even an option. Brian wants me out of his house, he's not happy about me not paying him. I counted up the coins in a piggy bank I had been contributing to now and then over the last 7 years or so... 11 dollars. Eleven dollars. If this isn't rock bottom it's getting very close. Good news is, only way from there is up, right? That's what I've heard anyway.
It's hard for me to admit to this, it's humiliating actually. I partially blame my mom, all the promises of how well the studio would be doing and all the photo shoots she'd set me up with. And then the few shoots that get scheduled she turns around and cancels. I've literally become a starving artist. A college graduate who can't pay back my student loan. I find myself feeling detached because well let's face it, how is this a desirable state. I can't imagine this is the sort of description a guy looks for when seeking out a lady.
In short, there's still a bunch of ramen in the back of the cupboard. Riding out a recession with pre-packaged dry pasta with that oh so flavorful seasoned powder. I keep telling myself it could be worse. Because after all, it could be worse. Somehow. I just hope it gets better before then.