Sticky.
Originally published at The Off-Center. Please leave any comments there.
Stuck.
Like a fly in rubber cement, peering out through a thick pane of glass at a startling, blue sky.
The journey began at graduation. I went home for a few months, waited tables, saved up some cash and snagged myself a prestigious position at the Juilliard School. Clawed my way through a pitiless year as the lowest of the low and realized over a vodka stinger that “Administrative Assistant” was actually a step up. All around me, now, are people making positive changes in their lives: Going back to school, getting promoted, finding new positions. And me? I just feel stuck. Stuck in waiting-list limbo, in a morass of mediocrity, squirming impatiently as I send out resumes and writing samples in the hopes for something anything to break the monotony.
This is what happens to a kid who is told that they can be anything they want to be. They actually try to do it, and I begin to wonder if it isn’t better to tell that same child, “Consider your options. Be cautious. Make happiness where you end up, do not look for it elsewhere.” Is that ridiculous? That might be ridiculous.
In other news, I have so far made $0.01 as a freelance writer. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. One cent. For one article. That one person has read.
But hey, that’s better than nothing.