I am a Writer

Attention, everyone! I need to say this one more time, and never again. To all the well-meaning, amateur job/life coaches out there that think my (relative) unemployment is an unvoiced cry for their ideas and opinions:

NO, I AM NOT A SCHOOL TEACHER.
NO, I AM NOT GOING TO BECOME A SCHOOL TEACHER.
NO, I AM NOT GOING TO "THINK ABOUT IT".

YES, I KNOW I AM GOOD WITH KIDS. I LOVE KIDS.
YES, I KNOW THAT TEACHERS ARE NEEDED.
YES, I BELIEVE THAT TEACHING IS WORTHWHILE.

BUT...

I'VE HATED THE EXPERIENCE IN THE PAST.
I AM UNWILLING TO GO TO SCHOOL AGAIN.
I AM UNWILLING TO PAY FOR A SINGLE CLASS, CERTIFICATION, OR TEST WITH 85,000$ OF STUDENT LOANS TO PAY FOR THE TWO DEGREES I'VE ALREADY EARNED.

BY THE WAY.... I KNOW THERE'S A RECESSION. I DON'T CARE. I'M NOT CHANGING MY MIND ABOUT THIS.

LASTLY...

I AM A WRITER. ANY TEACHING I DO IS INCIDENTAL, ACCIDENTAL, OR ON A VOLUNTEER BASIS.
I AM A WRITER. THAT IS WHAT I AM. THAT IS WHAT I CHOOSE.
I AM A WRITER. PERIOD.

...AND AS AN ANONYMOUS, LONG DEAD, COLLEAGUE OF MINE ONCE WROTE:

THE END

Access Denied

Today was a resounding chorus of ACCESS DENIED in so many ways. How did I get locked on the outside of the bubble?

I got a rejection email from a company that I didn't even want to work for, and yet I am still a bit wounded. Is this how low I've sunk, that I want to be wanted, regardless of whom is doing the wanting? I could be a heroine on Lifetime. Cue montage of attitude change and resultant success please, because I am tiring of this uphill battle. I would be so pleased if the weeks flew by to the tune of some insanely upbeat music, snapshots of me working hard, working out, losing weight, changing my image, getting a makeover, and relocating would sail past my nodding head and snapping fingers bump-free, only to arrive at me, a completely different person. A successful, confident person. Not the disaster I am today. Right now, that is my fondest wish, to be in a fairy tale. What does that say?!?! I need a break.

My wishes are very simple, actually. A renovated double shotgun in New Orleans, and an uncorked writer's brain to write my stories and sell 'em to whoever wants to read 'em. How did trying to get there come to involve rewriting my resume fifteen times and searching ardently for jobs in Atlanta or Washington DC? I feel like I'm in the center of a tornado, all turned around and holding on for dear life. What happened to true North? Is that why this isn't working? I'm so blown off course... was it heeding the pushy chorus of helpful voices, or my deafness to them? It occurs to me that there is only one voice that I need to heed, and it is not the voice of the crowd. It's a still, quiet voice that speaks to the broken, listening heart.

I wish that listening and waiting were as easy as typing these words, but there is the small matter of what I might hear when I finally do hear something. Hearing a no might break my heart, and would certainly hurt my feelings -- another access denied. Courage is scarce today, and faith locked away in a mustard seed, but tomorrow brings the dawn and joy cometh in the morning.

Post Theme: Open Up My Heart by Yolanda Adams

Update... Even further behind, if you can believe it!

So, I am so behind right now it's laughable. By my count, I have to write 14,000 words tonight to catch up! How much you wanna bet the gap won't be closed tonight? At least these days it's less because I'm afraid to write and can't think of anything and more because life keeps getting in the way.

I'm so far behind, but somehow it still feels better than when I first started, and I'm not worried just yet.

Big week ahead, but lots of opportunity to write. Just gotta give up on the telly, netflix, gtalk, etc. for awhile and I'm set. How hard is that? (sarcasm!) This weekend I am headed to the coast to visit the parental units and meet bro's new lady, so automatic deduction in the amount of words possible without staying up all night staring at the computer screen.

It's getting to the point where I literally have to take computer breaks. I get tired of staring at the screen and sitting all hunched over. I can feel my skin losing it's color! Am I in jeopardy of turning into one of those 24-hour study room freaks from college? Pretty soon I'll devolve into a mole woman, no longer in need of solar energy to survive, having adapted a mimicing process to photosynthesis from flourescent lighting. Eww. I'm grossing myself out. Enough of that.

And enough of this. Time for a break. Court tv, anyone?

It's getting worse, not better

I feel sick. This is not working. I just looked at where I'm supposed to be today. At least 10,000 words. I have just over 2,000. And no plot still. I have a headache just thinking about it. Maybe I should start over? Maybe just write small chapters, snapshots of life, a memoir? It would be alot easier than the project that I am working on now. Maybe something like the broke diaries format or something like that. I could just flow, not worried with accuracies, not worried about plot, as it's completely autobiographical.

Am I supposed to be this stressed?!

So I'm at the library, and it's a great place to concentrate. Got the ipod, the WiFi, and not alot of visual stimuli. This is perfect, because as a veteran people watcher I am always getting distracted watching others. That's one positive thing done today -- I discovered this place. But I'm leaving for today. Praying for something better tomorrow!!

So...

Maybe I didn't write a thing today. Maybe I spent the whole time trying to sync my ipod to this new laptop. Maybe apple sucks and microsoft too, because vista doesn't work right with itunes, and they know it and they don't care.

As I type I am finally syncing up, and it's no time to celebrate because I lost every single playcount. I'm not sure if you know what that means, but suffice it to say that alot of my smart playlists are gone, and my ipod is no longer smart about which songs I like to listen to. For someone like me, this is an unutterable tragedy. Some other ish went down with my external hard drive too -- I'm thinking I have dummy copies (or maybe even two) of most of my music somehow, because it's so much I couldn't load it onto this laptop. That means that I am stuck listening to my music on the ipod only, since I can't travel and take my music with me! What a crock!

I'm so steamed.... headed off to bed, hope I won't have nightmares about this itunes mess, and hope I can be productive tomorrow since I basically wasted today.