Sob Story, Part Two

And I'm back. For a little while.

So I'm a “special kid” (who apparently is cool revealing those details to the world) with nowhere to go and, presumably, nowhere to come from, very soon.

As those of you who've checked out my song “Now What?” posted above and been able to listen to it despite the outside noise that plagues the left channel in particular, may know or have figured out, I'm just out of college. It took me twice as long as it apparently was supposed to have done, but I did finish. My degree? A bachelor of the arts in creative writing, mathematics and technology. I kind of semi-joke that, in other words, I'm a jack of all trades and master of none. I aborted the mathematics and computer science bits of my education two or three years in when I realized that I was neither enjoying nor doing well in those classes. I subsequently tried three or four majors — anthropology, psych, rhetoric — before getting together with a small team of administrators to write up an independent creative writing major, designed with a focus on poetry and an intent on just getting me the hell out of college. It took a lot of effort (in my opinion) and rather a bit of intervention to even get me to realize the IPS (Individual Plan of Study). For a couple semesters, I went as low as one class at a time. The normal full-time number of classes per semester is four. In fact, I seem to recall sitting one semester out entirely, in an effort to shake the pressure and depression.

I've kind of forgotten where I was going with this. I just put on Court & Spark. I think what I was saying was that I went through all that for...what? A slab that is currently sitting in my gig bag? Oh, and can't forget that student loan debt, which, thanks to what I can only guess is a communication error, is triple what I thought it would be.

That's what I got. No real clues about life beyond academia. No job, and no particular career aspirations. I can tell you that the idea of a career — one thing that I spend my whole life doing — turns me right off.

So what about minor day (or evening/late-night) jobs? Well, who's hiring? Doesn't seem to be much out here. I did have a job for a couple years that I purposely left a couple years ago. They claim to take me back if I want, but, again, I left it for a reason. I tried, for a while, to do a job that requires me plopped in front of a computer all the while. I simply don't have it in me. I'd find myself just sat there, zoned out, accomplishing nothing. Not even surfing the net; just sitting there — even though I sit at a computer nearly all of my “spare” time, basically playing music and messing around mindlessly. And the reason I spend my spare time doing that is, as I mentioned in part one of this extravaganza, I have no social life. Nor do I care much for movies, books, television, or most video games. (I probably could have been a gamer, if games hadn't gotten all 3-D and pseudo-realistic.)

I'm a “mouse potato” with an inability for that would-be profession to translate into an actual profession. Certainly my other natural high points — wit, writing skills, musical knowledge and talent — have no place in contemporary society, at least not in America. I need a job with social aspects. And so I ask again: Who's hiring?

I suppose you all realize that I'm not one who's willing to stay with something that I don't enjoy. This happens to be precisely where I clash with my mother, who stayed at her old workplace that she detested for some sixteen years before being unceremoniously fired for an expletive. She's also sticking with a loveless marriage to my spineless father (who's another story altogether) which just about daily features high-volume arguments. I'm thankful that neither parent is an alcoholic; imagine the destruction that could result from that. Mother knows she can't particularly count on my father for much, so I become a kind of “go-to”.

And, for some reason, she wants me out of the house.

Just a shade more in part three.