I know I need to get more professional. It’s what this whole having-a-website thing is about isn’t it? Having my shit together is Plan B, that’s all I’m saying. Whatever dumb job pays the rent is fine and I’ll make my completely unaccessible art/music to explain my own life back to me. Maybe, maybe (of course) it could make me famous 100 years after I’m dead. That’s the dream! But it’s just not working out. I walked out on too many of those dumb jobs. It didn’t used to matter, you could take some time off and walk right into another job a month later (only way to get a vacation anyway). But these place are a lot pickier now. The unbelievably stupid dream is dead. Let’s be clear, I wasn’t looking for a showbiz “break”, I mean a break like finding a winning lottery ticket, one of my relatives dying (after winning the lottery—not a rich family—and also deciding they liked me enough to actually inherit anything, just as unlikely). Or there’s always marrying a lottery winner. (Assuming a conventionally rich woman would be too smart or high class to fall for me…still holding out for this one tho. It’s statistically most probable and no has to die.)

But the time has come to begin thinking about trying to begin trying to get a real job. Yes, I could live with my parents indefinitely and continue blogging and working odd jobs, making only enough money for gas and multiple credit card bills. But that road only leads to easily earned respect—blogging is widely accepted the only true valid art form of the 21st century—but it’s too easy! I’d just be coasting.

I dunno where the fuck I’m going with this, I gotta walk my dog. Peace. %