What to Say, What to Do, What to Think, What to Be

It has been over three full weeks since I finished school, and I am finally feeling rested. Because of an irregular work schedule, I still have not been able to reinstate a routine with the morning light, but—with the help of James Baldwin, some new clothes, and a few sits with friends—I am stabilizing. I have rediscovered the music I enjoy, the language I most love to read, and thoughts that I remember from a time before I was always exhausted. The vertigo is not so severe.

Everyday that I hear students talking about going back to class (the first day is in a week or so, I think), I start yearning for the comfort and stimulation of the classroom, long hours in front of books, research, writing, engaging conversations, and the ever-present baggy eyes. I will probably be lurking around campus for a while, a real Slacker-type hanger on. The Recreation Center may be able to keep me out with absurd membership plans, but the library is free, and my brain muscles can always use a brief workout.

It turns out that career centers are helpful resources, and I am grateful to the one on the MTSU campus. However, I have concluded that I will have to start a job that is not specifically writing based. I never had an internship, never published anything outside of academia or poetry, I have no experience with writing jobs, and my current and previous work places were probably not the most effective atmospheres for building communication skills even though both are customer service-centered establishments. Though a great deal of jobs out there include some type of writing duties, it seems, so that is a plus.

Buying suits is my most recent step towards full-time employment. I picked up one extra trim dark grey and one dark blue. I must admit, I look forward to wearing them. I am also terrified of spilling something on them or hooking the jacket on an edge.

Lastly, have any of you submitted any articles to websites and have been published? No matter what the site or content.

That's all I really have to say. It isn't much, but I need to keep writing this blog.

Á bientôt.

We'll Drink Horse Bark Root Beer

I did something rather uncharacteristic of myself for New Years, I went out. My roommate drug me out of the house and to a house party. After wallflowering and exchanging greetings with a half dozen people or so for an hour, I distanced myself and started to watch. Though I was the only one present who had not consumed a drop of alcohol (because, well, drinking is not fun) I realized that I was, nonetheless, just as drunk as they were, and playing the role of partier become natural.

I have carved out Monster, Indeed, Career Builder, etc., and discovered caves scribbled with long requirements and job responsibilities. I feel like I have little experience, and I do not know I am qualified to do. Even entry level jobs seem to demand more than what "entry" denotes. And let's say that Nashville is not a hot spot for book publishing jobs. After spending an hour roaming through these caves, I leave intoxicated—stumbling over my desires and chipping my typing fingers on the way down that have gotten me thus far. Then I think about who I know. That part takes a bit less than a hour.

Copywriter? Assistant to Editor? Proposal Writer? Technical Writer? Not a writer? Another glass please.

In other news, by the time I got off of work and was reminded of the black eyed peas superstition, the grocery was clean out, but I did learn frontside tail slides skating yesterday, so I think I will continue to get out of bed in the mornings. Who knows, variations may be coming soon.

I have five months to sober up and get a real job, or I'm stuck in Murfreesboro.

At 1:00, some sunshine during these dim winter days.

A song filtered by holy water.


Always calming.