Kudos to the weather and all things bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. And to my boy, who made my weekend much more tolerable. So the news goes like this. I am trying not be negative, I am trying to be positive, I swear I swear I swear.

My phone crapped out again. Samsung T-mobile phones and I are not friends. This happened on Friday, so I have been completely unreachable except via slower e-mail routes. Oh well. And on Wednesday when I get my chizneck, I have nothing coming me for two more weeks. In two more weeks is more money, more rent and more health insurance. Ebay is not an option. I made this little faux ad for babysitting services, which was promptly shot down by my more intelligent friend. I realize that working to make enough money to live a basic yet not very sexy lifestyle that would exist in the $40,000 range. Less than that would mean I would be living on what I am living on now, but on a better week with about $20 bucks a day to spend on food and/or save. Doesn’t leave much room for anything actually. Bartending, but where? The last bar was a joke. I would probably want to sit in a pool of my own vomit rather than type for money anymore.

These are the days you kick yourself for not getting a college degree. And I am not whining about not having one in a non-intelligent manner, yes I realize it is my fault I do not have one currently. And no, none of my friends except now two used their degrees to get a job in their intended field of study. It’s just that whole respect discipline thing. Like you are suddenly more capable of doing a job if you disciplined and suffered through 4 years of education. It has cut me out of a lot of positions, that little degree, and I have been told on more than one occasion that I was being passed over for someone who actually had one. How does this relate to writing? It doesn’t except when a good portion of your skill set involves editing and grammar composition, something not easily proved via any other routes but some version of an English degree. Teach English, tutor, what have you, these little hang-line jobs are all dependent on degrees. And although being a simple secretary or dot-bomb girl never perpetuated me needing a degree, to go over that little baby hump in salary sometimes is dependent on having spent 100 grand on an education.

So my friend asked, what do you do?

I do not know. Figure out a plan B. Because plan A isn’t gonna come into fruition for many many years. And the only institution I would like to blame for fucking me over is the health care industry, which makes me fork over over $326.80 a month as a big fat just in case.

Part of me wants to scrap that, and just go with the flow. Part of me knows I’m gonna have to eventually. And part of me sits in disbelief as our country continues on with this charade of “We care about you and your future. We will fight to change social security even though we all collect pensions for being in these positions, and will never have to worry about it. We all will always have healthcare as a result of this and do not understand the plight of average America because we are not average Americans but overpriviledged meatheads who have decided we deserve to crap all over the average person and pretend we are the mightiest country in the world.”

Point is, point blank, they stink. And that’s it.

I’m trying to have a good day. I really am.