I have a month now.
About a month to find an actual steady job before I have to move the fuck out of San Francisco and back into that suffocating, gossip-filled, tiny little town where I feel absolutely judged by everyone that walks and breathes there.
I’d rather kill myself.
Malik (follow him on Twitter @Malik4Play) was saying that it sounds like I’ve hit another “character building roadblock”, and that I shouldn’t be sitting around trying to smile and act like everything is okay when, in fact, it’s really not.
… No seriously, he said that.
Don’t be afraid to show some humility? The thing with humility is that it’s fucking humiliating. Do I really want to admit to my readers, to my parents, to my friends, and to myself that things aren’t working out exactly as planned? Do I really want to just accept that I’ve failed at this (whatever “this” is)?
Things keep popping up like, “Oh, I have a job for you.” “Oh yeah, Cheri, you’re a shoe-in.” “Hey, let’s meet up and see if it works out!”
But has it?
Worked out, I mean. Has it worked out?
I don’t know!
How should I know when I’m constantly given the run around?
Should I just go back to Stockton?
Should I sell myself short and do something that I know is beneath me?
Or should I stick it out, go broke, and keep trying?
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.
I was watching this standup comedy act the other day — I forget who the comedian was. Kevin Hart? Who knows. Anyway, he said that when we were kids, we’d look at grownups and think to ourselves, “Man, I can’t wait to be a grown up! I’ll have everything all figured out when I’m a grown up!” Like, putting this emphasis on the fact that when we “grow up” or whatever, we’ll just know what the fuck we’re supposed to be doing with the rest of our lives.
But the truth is, boys and girls?
I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I don’t know who I’m going to meet over the next few days. I don’t know if I’ll get run over by a car. I don’t see how I’m supposed to “figure out my life”. And I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I really don’t know what I’m doing! Like, at all! I kind of just … Do shit. Y’know? Like, leave my house and walk down the street and randomly decide I want to sit in some cafe or have a cup of tea. Or head to a buddy’s house to watch anime all night, or meet up with a friend for a glass of wine and pizza — none of this is fucking predetermined, y’know what I mean?
It’s all random.
… Is that how it’s going to be forever?
Am I supposed to have some master plan of some sort that I’m supposed to be sticking to? Because if I am, it certainly isn’t working out exactly the way that I want it to.
The part where Chris says, “Do you want to settle and become a baker because your dreams didn’t come true?” is from this book we both read called The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho. It’s basically about chasing after your destiny and not settling for things that only make you happy momentarily. Especially when you know that there’s something better right around the corner.
It’s one of those situations where you feel like everyone has everything figured out except for you. And the only thing that really makes you feel better is … I dunno.
Doing things you’re good at.
Like for me, that’s writing (I’m good at writing, right?). Or talking to people. Or … I dunno — watching movies. I’m an expert at watching movies. I’ll sit here with my remote in my hand, a box of chocolates in the other, gulping down water and stuffing my face — yeah. I’m a real pro at this stuff.
And you know how I said that job hunting was easy? Well, it’s not. Even if you think you’re the most qualified person in the world, it’s really just this fucking numbers game where you need to have a million backup plans because, and this sucks to say, the world does not revolve around you and what you want or how capable you feel that you are — You need to prove it somehow.
But how do you fucking prove yourself if you’re not given a chance?
What do you do?
… What do I do?
XOXO Cheri XOXO