Nothing's going right.
No job. Have applied at absolutely every fucking place in this town, and still, no job. Just to remind you, I do not just sit on my ass all day watching "90210" reruns. I don't even have a TV.
Possibly no financial aid for next year, due to my own stupid fuck-up on ONE stupid paper. Hey, maybe they'll accuse me of fraud, and sentence me to prison for two years; then I wouldn't have to worry about paying my rent after all.
Reading "The Plague," by Albert Camus. Chris lent it to me like, a half dozen years ago, and I'm just now getting to it. I'm on page 14, and already it's scaring the hell out of me. Nothing scares me more than plagues; nothing.
Spent too much money last night on food. Feeling terribly guilty for actually eating; I've been planning to subsist on blackberries and pine needles until I get a job. That'll motivate me, you know?
Since I've only received three letters in the past MONTH, I've caught up on all my correspondence. Frankly, at 7.00 in the evening, when I can't go out begging for a job anymore, when Otto's is closing and I can't afford Spar-food, I'm BORED. I've been writing letters and postcards to people I barely know, just to have something to do. They don't write back.
Jürgen has been rather supportive, but it's a clumsy effort. He's trying to cheer up an eight-year-old with a skinned knee, but I'm beyond the point where an ice cream cone will help. Logically, this should be about the point where I become an alcoholic. Only problem is, I can't afford booze, and what the fuck: I don't like it that much anyway.
Norman emailed me, told me I wasn't allowed to feel like a pathetic loser for not having a job. I do anyway. I dread being evicted. I dread showing up on Norman's doorstep, sopping wet with four bags of clothes, books, and little bits of trash, and asking for a place to stay for a little while. That isn't how I want to see him again. Still, despite the frantic apprehension, I love hearing from him. I think Norman would be quite proud of me if I managed to live independently in the woods for awhile. Hell; it would be a lot easier to do THAT than get a job.
Sent my mom a package at the beginning of last week. I wrote her a letter, and sent her some little articles I've picked up here and there: a jar of honey, a bar of special soap, some pictures and postcards and things... But I haven't heard from her in ages. She told me she had something to send me for my birthday, but she never did. I know my mom loves me and all, but it doesn't get much worse than the feeling that your own mom has forgotten you...
Some kids who live downstairs from me said they can't find jobs either. The boy has been looking for FOUR months, even though he has two Bachelor's degrees. They keep telling him he isn't "suited" for burger-flipping work. How can you be smart and motivated enough to have TWO Bachelor's degrees, and not be qualified to get a fucking data entry position? The girl is working at a Barnes and Nobel and is clinging to her job like it's a life-raft. That makes me feel a little better, sick as it is. Maybe it ISN'T me who's the utter failure. Maybe it's the whole economy. Maybe it's the area's economy. Maybe it's the fault of whomever came up with the fucking RIDICULOUS idea of having Washington State minimum wage be more than TRIPLE what I was making at my first job, five years ago; of course nobody's hiring; how would they afford it?
I hate the term "human resources."
Makes me feel like something in a cage.
Haven't had a day off from job-hunting in weeks.
Haven't been paid for any of it. Just expended too much energy, become more depressed, and paid for bus fares, every damned day.
I FEEL like I'm eight and I have a skinned knee. I feel like sitting down on the floor, throwing my arms around my knees, and rocking back and forth crying and shrieaking, "I want to go HOME." But this IS home now; my apartment is home, and it's the only home I have, and I don't REALLY want to go back to it, because every time I'm there, every MINUTE that I'm there, I'm thinking about how I'll have to take all my posters down next month, and I'll have one of those "EVICTION!" slips taped to my door like the guy upstairs next to the laundry room who couldn't pay his July rent.
I wonder where that guy went?
Probably back to Binghamton. He's probably at the Belmar right now, shooting the shit with Big Gay John.
So, okay, if there's currently no money whatsoever in anything I actually enjoy, such as writing, editting, teaching, tutoring, or even just stupid filing work, then what's next? There's also no money in things such as cooking, waitressing, or cashiering, which I DON'T like, but which I can do. So what's next? I don't know how to WELD, or drive a forklift, and they wouldn't hire me to do that shit anyway because I'm a scrawny chick. The ONLY place there's ANY fucking money in this whole stupid fucking country is the motherfucking MILITARY.
I'm not going to go kill people for my fucking meals. I don't know; it's just not really my style.
I made a friend who was in the Reserves, who had joined the Reserves just before meeting me, and who suddenly got shipped off to gahd-knows-where to kill sweet little Afghani babies or something. I haven't heard from him since January or February.
Won't do it. Sorry. I'm a tough bitch, but I talk back a lot. They'd rape me and kill me before my first paycheck.
I have a sunburn. Usual, for me; my skin usually tans in summer. But a couple of days ago, I had to walk halfway to Nisqually (the South Puget Sound equivalent of the Middle of Nowhere...) for a job interview, and it was so freakin' hot and sunny outside... I forgot how much a sunburn hurts; I haven't had one -- not a real one -- in years. We don't get enough sunlight in Binghamton to burn; I had to go to the allegedly-cloudiest part of the country for that. It hurts to sleep on my back. It also hurts to shower. And, of course, nothing helps: I just shouldn't have been so stupid as to be walking to Nisqually in full sunlight.
Listened to the news yesterday for several hours. G.W. talking some shit about corporate fraud. AGAIN. We must stop it, it's an egregrious practice, blah blah, blah... (Who KNEW that G.W. knew the word "egregious"?!) Personally, I'm not in favor of the United States having a monarchy -- or a theocracy -- and I think SOMEBODY should stop THAT egregious practice. Maybe Ralph Nader.
It's a lot harder to renounce U.S. citizenship than it sounds. You can't even go hang out in Seattle, ever again. And I think you still have to pay taxes and perform jury duty ANYWAY. I don't want to renounce citizenship anyway; I like the U.S. I just despise the government, the economy, the education system, the health care system, and the fact that you have to give a valid, United States address in order to sit on the sidewalk in front of the Spar to smoke a cigarette. And the fact that nobody will hire me, no matter how much cleavage I show. Maybe I will move to Seattle for a month or two; I know a good district for prostitution...
Not really breathing as much as I used to...
Wish I had something happier to think about.
Jazz tonight at the Spar. If you meet me there, I'll let you buy me a drink.
~Helena*