Hey Momma
Where was I? Yes. Americorps. As I said, trying to be in one in Chi-town. My mom was like, "You know, you can't do this whole 10-month thing for the rest of your life."
I kind of wanted to laugh. No, I can't do Americorps for the rest of my life (legal age discrimination). But I'm pretty sure there are plenty of temporary jobs for someone to make a career out of it. Plenty of programs for the under 40 crowd (and probably increasingly programs for the over 40 population).
Then, she tried to play me with the whole "where ya gonna live" question. Mama didn't raise no fools here. I went and looked on craigslist, and some other Chicago apartment sites. I may not be able to live by myself, but there's plenty of reasonable rent prices there. Even for people living on non-profit peanuts. And I just sent an email to the point person for the program asking for more possible housing options.
Plus, if all else fails, I can just start talking to that aunt who lives there. She may not know me well, but who knows? She might just take me in and I can live like I've been living all these years, off the lean fat of the land LOL. I'd probly compensate her for like 100 bux a month.
It's funny because I am both practical and impractical. I worry about things that I shouldn't worry about. I fret over little things. But when it comes to food and shelter and all the things that matter for survival, I think of it this way. No matter what, I will always have my family to help. And I know America has poverty, but I also strongly feel that when push comes to shove, I will not be living on the streets. I've never really been afraid that there wouldn't be food on the table or shoes on my feet. It's that dirty American entitlement, I guess. Things could be worse survival wise. Plus, I've always seen myself as a moderate human being. I can probably thank my laziness for this, LoL. Everyone wishes they didn't have any financial worries, but at the end of the day if I have a place to rest my head and I feel supported, I am content.
I think this is what my mother doesn't get about me. My contentment. She doesn't understand my lack of a need to climb the ladder of ambition. I do feel kind of bad about it, because as I said she had that drive. She wanted to be a doctor. Why anyone would want people's lives in their hands or to exert some kind of control over others' bodies, I don't know. But that's what she wanted. I want to feel free, content and happy. Obviously, I cannot feel entirely free because this system is freedom crushing, but right now I am free. I work in an actual office, not a cubicle, next to a window where sunshine is slipping through the blinds. With (mostly) tolerable co-workers. Within reason, I can usually come and go as I please (although I usually don't leave before 4:30). Most extra hours that I spend here are either fun (going to see shows with kids in them) or productive (so I feel proud of myself when they're over). At the end of the day, I put on my iPod, travel on the train, enjoy the scenery if I'm by a window or read or write, I get on the bus and do the same thing, and then I go home. Where I decide to do whatever else I want to do until about 1:30 AM. Not always exciting, but at the end of the day, I'm still home, healthy and (relatively) happy. Life as usual. I'm not dying to be the boss, the president, the CEO, the superstar. Those people usually get into trouble or do some shady deals anyway. JUST BE, MAN. LoL.
Sometimes I'm a hippie. Scary.
I kind of wanted to laugh. No, I can't do Americorps for the rest of my life (legal age discrimination). But I'm pretty sure there are plenty of temporary jobs for someone to make a career out of it. Plenty of programs for the under 40 crowd (and probably increasingly programs for the over 40 population).
Then, she tried to play me with the whole "where ya gonna live" question. Mama didn't raise no fools here. I went and looked on craigslist, and some other Chicago apartment sites. I may not be able to live by myself, but there's plenty of reasonable rent prices there. Even for people living on non-profit peanuts. And I just sent an email to the point person for the program asking for more possible housing options.
Plus, if all else fails, I can just start talking to that aunt who lives there. She may not know me well, but who knows? She might just take me in and I can live like I've been living all these years, off the lean fat of the land LOL. I'd probly compensate her for like 100 bux a month.
It's funny because I am both practical and impractical. I worry about things that I shouldn't worry about. I fret over little things. But when it comes to food and shelter and all the things that matter for survival, I think of it this way. No matter what, I will always have my family to help. And I know America has poverty, but I also strongly feel that when push comes to shove, I will not be living on the streets. I've never really been afraid that there wouldn't be food on the table or shoes on my feet. It's that dirty American entitlement, I guess. Things could be worse survival wise. Plus, I've always seen myself as a moderate human being. I can probably thank my laziness for this, LoL. Everyone wishes they didn't have any financial worries, but at the end of the day if I have a place to rest my head and I feel supported, I am content.
I think this is what my mother doesn't get about me. My contentment. She doesn't understand my lack of a need to climb the ladder of ambition. I do feel kind of bad about it, because as I said she had that drive. She wanted to be a doctor. Why anyone would want people's lives in their hands or to exert some kind of control over others' bodies, I don't know. But that's what she wanted. I want to feel free, content and happy. Obviously, I cannot feel entirely free because this system is freedom crushing, but right now I am free. I work in an actual office, not a cubicle, next to a window where sunshine is slipping through the blinds. With (mostly) tolerable co-workers. Within reason, I can usually come and go as I please (although I usually don't leave before 4:30). Most extra hours that I spend here are either fun (going to see shows with kids in them) or productive (so I feel proud of myself when they're over). At the end of the day, I put on my iPod, travel on the train, enjoy the scenery if I'm by a window or read or write, I get on the bus and do the same thing, and then I go home. Where I decide to do whatever else I want to do until about 1:30 AM. Not always exciting, but at the end of the day, I'm still home, healthy and (relatively) happy. Life as usual. I'm not dying to be the boss, the president, the CEO, the superstar. Those people usually get into trouble or do some shady deals anyway. JUST BE, MAN. LoL.
Sometimes I'm a hippie. Scary.