Nov 12, 2010


This whole thing would have been okay if it had all worked out neatly like a television plot:

The getting of the design job with me leaving the waitressing job meant that all the time I spent in school, all the time I had been sleep deprived (and all the added, unnecessary drama I'd welcomed into my life at the time) had paid off.

Ding, Character A Makes Good:

The getting of the better apartment was, then, symbolic of moving forward, even if it was literally only steps away from where I had been. The losing of the design job and moving here would then be okay, too. If I then (despite it being office work that I never wanted to do) grown (surrounded by designers doing what I wanted to do) and had left this house and gotten a well deserved raise and learned, at least, that I was quite flexible, here in this most unforgivingly inflexible world.

It would have been even more neat and tidy if, while here (the last place I ever wanted to be) I had finally quit smoking forever. Had finally lost the weight I gained while attempting to quit smoking forever. And had learned how to be a human being.

In all, I've broken even. I'm am exactly where I was last summer. I did finally learn how to make an omelet in less than three minutes, though. And a chicken stock that actually tastes like chicken. And I acquired quite a few computer skills. Right now, the house smells like something is cooking. Tom is in the kitchen and the smell of onions and peppers is distracting. Yes, something is cooking. But what?

In the next episode I want a tidy change that allows for the fact that I want to work, that I work hard, and that I adjust to adversity--not right away, not without a fight, not without making a fool out of myself--but ultimately.

I want a good job. One where I make a salary that reflects the work I've actually done. In real time. Not anymore jobs that say things like,"We can't pay you properly right now, but we love you, and a pay increase is definitely on the table". Followed by, "We have to let go of 60% of the employees this morning, but we love you. We'll definitely write you a nice letter of recommendation."

Because, I am in my forties. I really am. It wasn't just a dream. And, more than that, I'm somewhat educated. And, when you look at all of it it on paper, I've already paid my dues.

So, if life is at all like tv is, then things must change at this juncture, here on this my silly little tv show. 

It could go one of two ways, of course. I'm aware of this. And, as formula-schtick, it's far more entertaining to see me wind up on the street. Who doesn't want to see Character A lose her mind and maybe all of her teeth? Who doesn't want to see her turn into a monster, maybe even a swamp monster--for added effect?

It sure is more fun to hate Character A than to identify with her. I cite Gossip Girl.

Just watch all the head-bands finally go flying. They fall one by one. Just as crowns fall one by one. But then the fallen pull themselves back up, mostly behind the scenes. And, look out, here she comes. Again. And, just like that, she's back. Even though she died two seasons ago. Even though she got life in jail. She's back. And she's, she's ...much nicer this time.


  1. Nicely worded, Sis.


  2. I will always be a monster with you, if you need back up. Hi Vic.