Wednesday, July 19, 2006

I'd rather be fat than be confused

It's been one of those weeks. We have about 8 bucks in the bank (that's after selling a bunch of cd's...again). Yes, poor us. Inspired by (if you laugh, I will hunt you down and beat you until you cry out of your butt)..."Oprah's Debt Diet" we decided to take a relentless look at our finances and what we've found is pretty stupid. We're in debt, we spend more than we make and my 401k ain't making jack shit because I can't contribute to it. So, I've been obsessing over our bank statements finding waste in our spending to find funds that would be better spent paying down our credit cards and opening a supplementary retirement fund for me. I've been reading Fortune magazine you guys. Fortune magazine! Fuck.
There's also the reality that my job is in no way fulfilling. It would be one thing to have a lame ass job, getting paid what I'm worth, but having a lame ass job that I make shit at, is entirely another.
I've been writing for New West, which has really helped me get back on the writing horse and back on the track I was on 7 years ago when I thought I knew what I wanted to do. I've applied to be the new editor for the SLC page (only a part-time position), but there are no guarantees about that...and I know that the uncertainty about whether I'm going to get that position or not is weighing heavy right now too. I know that if I really want to get back into writing full time that I need to develop my skills and get more experience. This would be a phenomenal way to do that, so it's important, but I'm trying not to make it too important.
I had an empiphany about why I gave up writing 7 years ago and it had so much to do with my own bullshit insecurity it's embarrassing. I had been interning at a local Weekly and doing some freelance stuff for them right after I graduated college. I was totally on track and it seemed that everything was falling into place when the editor asked me to apply for a copy editing position. I applied, didn't hear anything for a while, that editor quit and the new editor hired someone else (someone related to the publisher, I might add). It was an enormous blow. Mostly because they never even told me. I just had to figure it out. I was too insecure at the time to realize that it had nothing to do with me...and I just gave up. It's one of the stupidest, most embarrassing choices I've ever made. It sent me into to a tailspin of no job, not leaving the house during daylight hours and not talking to anyone (except on the fucking internet) for almost a year. These days we call that depression. Back then, I just thought of it as re-grouping. I don't want to have regrets about that time and in a way I don' was emerging from that depression that got me writing music and got Angie and I to start our band, which led us to create U.G.G.L.I.E.S., which led us to getting the radio show on KRCL and so on and so on and so on. That depression also meant that I was far enough off the map that getting a job at a local bookstore was a saving grace and without that job, I would have never met Lars. So, fuck...yeah, now that I'm really thinking about it...I don't regret a goddamn thing.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

atta' girl!

and so well written.