Something in her style...

Hello World. Yes, I am still unemployed and love/hating it. I think I'll use that as inspiration in writing a song tonight, lets hope this one turns out really darn good. In other news my ac adapter for my notebook has fallen apart, so I rarely use my own computer anymore, and haven't been blogging as much as I would like to, not that it matters because nobody reads this rubbish anyway.

Sometimes I wish I could make money without having to look for another low pay POS job, but It's just not working. Sure, I could start dealing drugs, but I don't want to end up in prison anytime soon. Yeah, I'm just bored off my ass typing again, fuck. So, what should I type about now. Shit, I dunno. I suppose I could check one of those online dating sites I signed up to and see if there's anyone out there for me. Maybe. My big problem is I'm always too afraid/paranoid to actually message any of the people on those sites, who wants to date/fuck/love a high school dropout with no income?

...

Testicles, That is all.

Another Day, Another Dollar...

... But not for me!

As I celebrate my 1 week anniversary with unemployment in middle America, I think to myself: "What the fuck was I thinking?" Then I remember I wasn't really thinking, I was acting on a whim, which in most cases leads to a short period of really good luck. I hope this pattern follows for now, but I want to break it, so the the good luck period lasts a little longer, or at least long enough to truly feel more comfortable with life.

This brings up some of the positives of 'unemployment'. The fun little extras you get in life by choosing (even if temporarily) the life of the starving artist (I'm technically obese, but I do feel hungry, but there is no food, no money, and a small amount of a certain hallucinogenic substance lying around here somewhere).

Extra Number One!
Sleeping naturally...
Sleep. All too forgotten in the modern world, was once a normal part of life. I've recently rediscovered sleeping. To be more specific: I can sleep when I'm tired, and I wake up refreshed. My body is now following its natural sleep schedule, where I go to bed at 6AM(early, sometimes it's later) and don't awaken until 2 or 3PM. It's refreshing to wake up feeling, well, refreshed!

The Second Best Thing!
Doing whatever the fuck I want!
Yes, I don't work anymore. No more uniforms and bullshit 40 hours a week, so I can finally do things I'd enjoy doing (what's better: my happyness/non-suicidal thoughts or being pissy 24/7 wanting to kill something/someone/oneself) like grow a beard, and try to be serious-ish about my ability to randomly compose music.

Topping it off..
Relaxation!
Yes, I can relax. Sure, make fun of me, criticize me even. I'm unemployed, so what do I do... Relax. I've been working full time for what seems like forever now, and now I'm not. There's a reason people with decent jobs get vacation time/pay. It's necessary! Thats the biggest problem with minimum wage jobs, no free time. You work so hard non-stop you start to become insanely depressed and pissed off at the same time. It's a very deadly mix. But now.. I'm free. Sure, I'm going to need to find another way to make money to support myself, but damn, I needed this vacation.

Ready to move?

So, here I am, my last week in this horrid basement hell, about to move into a room at a friends house. This should be fun, unless you count the fact I feel really awkward about moving in somewhere while I'm unemployed, excuse me, living as a starving artist. I should be able to pay my way, but I can't really, and It's my fault and I accept it as much as I can.

That brings me to the finer points of the article. OMGWTF. Am I ready for this shit!? Is my stuff neat and organized the way it would be in normal circumstances, fuck no. This place is trashed, with odds and ends both mine and others' randomly piled underneath the beer can pile I created when the recycling bag tipped over onto the floor and I was half-asleep and didn't care at that particular moment.

By moving I lose the ability to play my collection of high quality stereophonic (or mono if you're counting the original pressing of "The Beatles Second Album") LPs (or LP's, apparently both are correct according to http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/LP). I will have to hope and pray (to what I don't know, being anti-religious is hard sometimes) that the ad-hoc network I set up at my new place works like it should, or I'll have to 'steal' a router from somebody. There's so much shit and I think I'm overthinking it all and needlessly stressing myself out.

But there are pros to the whole issue. No more near-constant annoyances (my friend Sean, whose place I'm moving out of) and no more random housework assignments that don't fucking matter to me (I pay rent, get off my case fool!... or at least I did pay rent until I quit my job last week on a whim). I'll be able to be a little louder when hanging out with friends, because I will no longer be living with an on-call pediatrician. I will live in the same house as the former stage manager of Emerson, Lake and Palmer. All in all it should be much less stress free (especially after I start making money again and can afford to smoke grass).

Maybe I should try to blog professionally, but about what? I'm not sure. Maybe I could write short stories and articles about random shit. Wait... that's what blogging is. Damn. Oh well, the blog world is so over-saturated now there would be no point to if as far as financial gain is concerned. But it's a nice dream. Maybe my songwriting/composing talents will see some recognition someday. Also a nice dream. Either way, I need to do something with my life, before I turn 20 and become old and decrepit.