I spent the night writing on my new novel.
I'm busy on my new novel. I was talking to a friend of mine on IM that I keep writing and writing but I do nothing with my production. I just leave it to rust in my computer, never looking for an agent or editor. Sad right? Wouldn't it be great if I could eke out a meager living on my writing? I don't want to be famous and have beautiful models hanging on my arms, and fat diamond rings and gold necklaces. I don't want to get jiggy. I just want to write and be left to do so.
Is that so hard to ask for? A struggling writer just wanting his chance to struggle? Well, how can I really struggle if I don't look for any of the above. Agent or Editor. Neither. Maybe I should do that today. Send out my first chapter to editors for them to get a taste of my work. Maybe I'll get a bite. Who knows? It's better than having them just sit in my computer. The all important first chapter, fittingly important.
I crawl into bed, kick my clothes from it onto the floor, take the sheet, wrap in it, then take it off and throw it in the air. I have nothing on, largely because I like it. My birthday suit is the best pajamas that I know. I'm sleeping in no time, my eye still hurting like a motherfucker. However, in the morning, there is no more jaw ache from my ailing tooth, my right eye still hurts though, but it's distant.
I have my Job Developer meeting today. I stand up, thinking. What if I DON'T go to this meeting? That's only two strikes. They'll have to either send me a letter instructing me to appear at another meeting with my case worker, or let me make my already stated meeting with my case worker on the 18th of the month. OR, the bad letter. My case has been sent to HRA for closing. That's what it means. HRA is nothing more than a huge shredder, They hand over your case, like a fat folder, and it comes back confetti. Try taking that to your pharmacist.
OH, what happens after the case goes to HRA? Well nothing actually. There are no more letters, no one comes to your home and knocks on the door, there are no phonecalls. Just a numb silence. And then when you go to buy food you find you can't. When you try to get your meds, you find that they cost an astronomical fee, and I think an eviction notice appears on your door. Shit.
So I'd better work it into my mind to get my ass in there today. I don't know if I don't have the letter in my mailbox now. It just might be in there and going to this meeting will be in vain. I'm almost wishing that it is in there. These people are something. I'm just a mess.
But going back to my friend. I'm not doing anything to change my circumstances but sit in this room and stay on the Internet. That's not good. I agree. I have got to get out of here and do something, but what? How can I do anything with the Roach Motel demanding every minute of every day of my day. Do you remember that Harping Bitch that was giving me so much shit last week? My asslicking WEP Developer?
Well, get this. This is what this whining puss says to me. I tell her that I have doctor notes for the days that I can't make in in the afternoons. So she asks, what time are these sessions? I say, 2:00pm. She asks when are they over? I say around 3:00pm, sometimes a little later. She says, Well, you have to go back to your WEP assignment and finish your day! I say, What bitch? No...I say, oh really. So I'm supposed to run back to the Roach Motel or my WEP assignment, get there around 3:30-4:00pm, and stay till 5:00. Who's fucking smoking dope here? I know I do that shit on occasion, but I wouldn't do it and work like this asshole is no doubt doing. They don't give me enough train fare for such stupidness.
That's what I'm dealing with. That's the mentality that these people have. These assign- ments and meetings are not for your benefit. That's what they try to convince you of. No, it's for your punishment. They are beating you over the head and hands with a cane until you get tired and let go of your benefits. I'm not going to fall for it. I'm going to just be a pain in the ass as long as I can be a pain in the ass. As long as I can push their patience. That won't be forever, but long enough to feel good.
Long enough to feel good.
I look for editors and agents.
HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/08/your-life-ain-shit.html
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