Oh, well this is just great...

            My plan has been ruined!  I got a job, and now I don’t know what to write about.  The untamed territory of the unemployed with all its associated adventure has been closed off to me.  I feel as if I promised you a rip-roaring roller coaster ride but ended up just pushing you around a few times on a wobbly merry-go-round at some questionable city park with teenagers smoking pot in the bathroom.  I’m such a sellout.  I sacrificed the lifeblood of my art for the glimmer of wealth.  I can’t even look at myself.  The passion to write and create and share is laced through my very sinews, but I tossed it aside for the chance to sell hot dogs off the street for a few greasy dollars.

            Actually, selling hot dogs would probably make for some good blog-fodder.  I’ll keep that in mind.

            So, real quick:  I’ve been hired by Big Brothers Big Sisters to help with their annual auction gala.  Today was my first day.  I showed up in my slacks and nice blouse to discover that everyone was in jeans.  I practically peed myself with happiness—and I could have, because I don’t need to wear those slacks again for at least two months, which is when the gig ends since I’ve only been hired to help with the event.  So there are two months until I could potentially be in the same spot I was in last week, and then I would be able to again hold the masses captivated as I spun my riveting tale about a girl’s dedicated struggle against the man to eke out a living while subsisting on nothing more than boiled beans and shoe leather… but I’m actually not crossing my fingers for that one.  At one point in my life I would have been, but nothing adds a healthy dose of boring to your life quite as efficiently as having a mortgage payment. 

I mean, I’m at a point now where I actually like talking about the mortgage with Husband.  It’s like it’s our evil nemesis, making us endlessly roll a giant ball of responsibility up a slippery hill, but we’re cleverly outwitting it month by month by thwarting its every dastardly attempt to destroy us using only our wit, cunning, and ridiculous good looks.  Also by paying down the principle.  That last thing sounds less interesting unless you realize paying down the principle is like taking off your glove, slapping your bulging, angry, Schwarzenegger-esque mortgage in the face, and daring it to make a move.

            Let me assure you that this is most certainly not destined to become a financially-themed blog.  (And the huddled masses breathed a sigh of relief…)  But I can’t write about unemployment anymore, and I’ve made it a personal goal to blog once a week.  I’ve actually created an Excel spreadsheet with weekly goals for myself and blogging is one of them.  Several blog topics have crossed my mind, all of which I don’t know enough about or that would just be self-indulgent.  Running was an obvious thought, but apparently not everyone is as proud of me as I think they should be when I get home and my socks are soaked in blood.  I want to write about something that someone else could potentially identify with, and I don’t just mean other bloody-sock people.  Whether they actually do identify or not is a separate issue, but it’s important to me to at least try to write something with worth for someone other than myself. 

            I’m almost to the end of the page and I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.  Suggestions are welcome, but not expected.  Tips, however, will be automatically added to your bill.  My thanks to you all, and I’ll see you next week with hopefully some sort of… point.