Day 3: Naked

It's been a few days since I wrote here. I have decided to keep this as more of a diary or journal, not a blog. It's too much pressure (and too depressing when you don't have any followers) to have blog.

The last episode of Sex and the City I watched was the third one--fitting since this is day three--and it had to do with "modelizers." Since I've never actually met one of these men, I don't know what they're like. It isn't a type of man I have ever dated. I've dated nice guys and rebels but not really the weird, fetish-driven guys.

But instead of talking about the show, I just want to talk about the day and life.

I woke up at 9:30. I am still looking for a job and under the impression that I'm going to have to start looking seriously in unconventional places. Like the grocery store. Hmm.

I did not get the bridal receptionist position. Neither of the two I interviewed for actually. I didn't even get asked to work at Starbucks. All of the sudden, they didn't have a position open at that store, but I should keep trying back every few weeks or so. I feel so disappointed in myself. And bored. And yet strangely unmotivated, which leads to more disappointment. That's the hardest part. At least when you have a job that sucks, you can complain about the job. I can only complain about myself. Because my job is finding a job, and every day I don't find one is one day where I haven't succeeded at work and--the worst part for me--have nothing to show for the entire day. I hate this. I had better job prospects in Peru. And it was fun work. I love teaching. It makes me feel like I'm doing something meaningful with my time, even if I don't always enjoy it or it takes a lot of energy...both of which are true.

I also like writing. I like getting thoughts down I didn't know I had until they're there on paper. I like just thinking and thinking and thinking. Or doing but stemming from thinking. Does that make any sense? So not making coffee. Or bagging groceries, or just answering phones. And I will very likely be doing one of these things very soon. Why am I so gloomy and defeatist?

I really don't understand how the people who end up living their passion do it. I don't understand what makes them different from me, but they seem very different from me. I always thought I was resourceful and proactive and smart and driven. These days, I just feel like a bum.

I'm reading Sylvia Plath's novel THE BELL JAR (I've mentioned this), and that's not helping. But I will say I had an interesting thing happen today while reading in the bathroom. For the first time, I actually felt myself disassociating from the main character. It was fine when she was becoming disillusioned with life, when she couldn't choose between different possible futures, when she was depressed. But today she tried to commit suicide. And as she drifts into deeper insanity, I just find myself reading about a character instead of my potential self. It's almost like the people in the book who put her into the asylum. Really, we are all so close to insanity, but we can't relate to it too much. Otherwise that makes us crazy too. And that makes us able to do the things crazy people do. And that's not cool. Maybe it's just self preservation. So I'm the enemy for her now. I wonder if she meant for that to happen to the reader. Probably not. She probably just needed a catharsis.

Getting tired. Now that I know nobody's reading this yet, I will just say that I'll be back. Like the Terminator. We all do the best we can.