How is your writing going this holiday vacation? I’m pretty much torn between my desire to sleep and urge to finish my screenplay.
So I’ve been struggling with the idea of getting a job since my writing doesn’t pay the bills yet. I’m a perpetual seeker of unemployment, for it’s way more exciting for me to be a full-time writer. But being a writer without a job can be challenging, especially early on in one’s career. Here’s a list I created of the pros and cons of being a full-time writer.
Just throwing some lighthearted, writer-related humor your way. How is everybody doing today? Follow me on Twitter: @MissBenison
The problem with my car is that I don’t have one. It’s the same problem I have with my boyfriend. And it’s one of the biggest challenges I face living in Vegas—the lack of car I mean, of course. Although it’s not consoling to know that your 54 year-old landlady has more action on a random Tuesday night than you did on New Year’s Eve, your birthday and the Fourth of July Weekend combined. But I digress, the issue at hand is transportation.
Many think that a car is not a priority. Certainly I thought that way, and I’ve lived without a car my entire life and never had a dire urge to buy one. But recently, things have changed and it has become more challenging for me to go about my day to day activities without a vehicle. And I intend to tell you all about those challenges—I ’m sure some of you will find my struggle ironic in a good way.
I’ll start with the most recent. After a three-hour workout a few days ago, I stood waiting for the bus and I noticed that it was raining on the mountains. It was very cloudy that day, but my weather app didn’t forecast any rain so I felt confident that I’d make it back home without so much as a drop moistening my shirt. How wrong I was. Within minutes, it started to drizzle and by the time I got on the bus, the streets were flooding.
I could see cars driving through puddles of water that almost reached to their windows. I seriously contemplated remaining on the bus and riding through the storm, so to speak. But luckily my street wasn’t inundated and the showers turned into sprinkles by the time I got off. When I got home, I was dripping from head to toe, except for a mysterious dry patch on my socks that I’m still trying to decipher.
This wasn’t the first time I got caught off guard by sudden rain. At least this time I wasn’t carrying loads of groceries and the showers were not proceeded by strong winds that thrust sand and plastic bags in my face.
Every time something like this happens to me, I think, “This is the worst part, this is how bad it’s going to get before it starts getting better.” But then it gets worse.
The entrepreneur in me says that I should make investments with money I save and let the cash flowing from my investments buy me what I want. But the delicate girl who is exhausted from hauling groceries in the desert heat and storms is desperate to take whatever cash she has and place it on whichever car is priced right. Honestly, a long walk in this heat? I’m surprised I haven’t fainted yet and woken up in the apartment of some schizophrenic whose third personality collects empty cereal boxes and sixth personality is a cat who’s is not happy at all with having a strange girl sleeping on her couch.
So, I guess my new short-term goal should be to get a car. And until then, I will try not to get dehydrated and be found passed out on the pavement in a puddle of my molten ice-cream, catch a deadly disease or make eye-contact with strange-looking people on the bus, or spend all my money on wine and clothes.
The thing is though, in spite being frustrated by having to walk home in the rain those couple of times, I was actually laughing. And you know why? First because it was way better than walking in the intense heat. But more importantly, because even though it wasn’t pleasant, I couldn’t complain. I was embracing my struggle, owning it. I was proud of myself and how far I’ve come, and even though my life isn’t perfect, it’s still great. It was an irritating situation and would’ve been for most. But for me, it was pure pleasure. It was life, giving me a little bitterness, and I appreciated it. Because that’s the way I live my life, by loving and feeling every moment—good or bad. In every moment of struggle and pain, I know I am alive and I felt life in the drops of rain on my cheeks that day. And a big part of me did not want to go home.