I got my haircut yesterday. Probably the best $5 haircut I've gotten since the early 80's, but I think I would've ponied up 5 more to not have to listen to shitty, shitty pop music for forty minutes. There was one song with a really catchy riff, wasted in a song that was otherwise drivel. The Foo Fighters could've done something awesome with that riff. But this band wasn't even close.
Although the haircut looks ok, I spent today mostly depressed. Yeah, I made beer and I wrote some and it didn't all suck, but what I realized walking back from the comic store was this; I am admitting that I cannot get a job. I'm cleaning myself up, which will include shaving off the soul patch I've kept on my chin for at least six months, so I can go into a temp agency and ask for work.
I don't have a dream to follow, I don't have a path to look to. Going to the temp agency isn't so bad; hopefully they'll be able to place me. It's that I don't really know anything that makes me valuable, and I don't really love anything that people would want to pay me for. And that's...no fun.
Although the haircut looks ok, I spent today mostly depressed. Yeah, I made beer and I wrote some and it didn't all suck, but what I realized walking back from the comic store was this; I am admitting that I cannot get a job. I'm cleaning myself up, which will include shaving off the soul patch I've kept on my chin for at least six months, so I can go into a temp agency and ask for work.
I don't have a dream to follow, I don't have a path to look to. Going to the temp agency isn't so bad; hopefully they'll be able to place me. It's that I don't really know anything that makes me valuable, and I don't really love anything that people would want to pay me for. And that's...no fun.
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