It’s been over a year since I posted on this blog last. Oops. If it helps you feel any better, 2015 was a decently uneventful year.
I went to graduate school and made friends with whom I have already lost touch. My first semester in the management practice program at CSU involved evening class meetings at the small bar on campus and figuring out how to keep my writing short and sweet. My second semester involved a lot of coffee and too much work with little takeaway. Lucky for me, the program only lasted two semesters, and I was able to graduate with a bachelor’s and a master’s degree in less than five years.
Since I graduated in December, I fell back into the seemingly never-ending job search. Once again I have to be a real adult person, and every morning I wake up thinking “I don’t want to. Don’t make me.” Because I might leave my part-time job any day to explore other opportunities, I can’t even fill my time completely with work. Mostly, I just wake up earlier than I’d like every day and send out hopeful responses to job postings. I’ve had one interview this year. I thought it went better than it did, decided to be my blindly optimistic self, and was very disappointed when I got a generic copy-and-paste email on following up. Not everything can go my way, but I’m starting to get tired of being told that someone else is better than me over and over again. It really is exhausting.
On the plus side, all this free time is giving me a chance to write more. Hence, this blog post. Not long ago, I found an old story I wrote and plan to revisit it. There’s another one that I think might be publish-ready, and if I can overcome that “it’s not perfect though” feeling I might send it out to a few places. Maybe I can make some money off my writing and never look for jobs again. If only…
I’ve been thinking a lot about where I’m trying to go in life and how the heck I’m supposed to get there. In an ideal world I could write stories and organize people’s houses for a living. I could read novels and have a vegetable garden(if I could keep it alive) in my free time. And I could interact only with people I actually want to see. This dream might require more adulting than I’m imagining it to, but it sounds better than anything else right now. Being a supportive member of society brings my mood down.
My other and I are still together, now for over two years. Every holiday we celebrate, we now celebrate for the third time(speaking of which, here’s my birthday fondue celebration:He lives an hour and a half away from me now because of work, but it doesn’t feel like a “long distance” relationship. We see each other every weekend and miss each other all week, but we’re never too far away. I’m usually crying pathetically whenever one of us drives away on Sunday nights either way. When my lease is up in August, I’m probably going to move closer to him, and hopefully a job.
For now, though, I’m just trudging along without a bunch of turns visible ahead. I hope that I like whatever comes next.