Now what?

I think it's safe to say that I have overcome the sinus monster, at least temporarily, which puts me in prime position to get back into the swing of things this [albeit somewhat short] week.

This means:

-Getting back into a gym routine [started off with this one today-check!]

-Making up for the money I did not make last week [and also paying rent-check!]

-Cleaning up the nest I made for myself at home while I was laying around for days [OCD on full blast-check!]

All of these, in addition to scads more that I have on my to-do list, will undoubtedly keep me occupied for the week. But underneath all of this business, I have a familiar uneasy feeling that has crept back into my realm of realization... And I think it is Drew Barrymore's fault.

Allow me to elaborate- this past weekend, lkj and I went to go see the new rom-com Going the Distance with Barrymore and her real-life beau Justin Long. I was kind of pumped about this movie because, as I tried to convince lkj to take me- "We'll get all the jokes! Because we did that!" and it would be especially enjoyable now that we, in fact, do not do that. A kind of toast to our former state of being. Little did I know what was in store. The movie itself was pretty much exactly what you would expect. It was cute, kind of predictable, kind of cheesy. I didn't so much like the ending, really. But that is not what piqued my interest about this movie. What got me was the fact that this girl's life was basically a regurgitation of what I had to deal with about 2 months ago, but with cuter clothes and the apple guy as the boyfriend. It pretty much slapped me in the face how true to life it was. She's a journalist, in a failing field, who has to fight and work herself to death to get an unpaid position, wherein she isn't sure if it will lead to a paying job. There's an actual line in the movie, where the exasperated Barrymore is pleading for a job with a news boss, and after telling her that there is no space for her, he tells her, "Hey, you could blog." [at which point I looked at lkj feeling ever more justified in my current web log endeavors.] Then she gets a job offer [finally] and has to decide whether to move back to New York to be with Mr. "I'm a Mac" and be a waitress until something else comes along OR take the job. Ouch. Thanks for hitting the nail on the head there Warner Brothers.

Remember back when I decided to quit my almost-salary-position for the sake of sanity and happiness? We're still a-go on that decision, and I by no means regret the steps that I have taken in my life. But I still haven't figured out what my next step is.... I've gotten my income taken care of for the time being, which is a major relief. Thank you, faithful tippers. But very few people are cut out to make serving into a long-term career. I am not one of those few people.

I still have that graduation mindset, where I feel the need to put my diploma to use.

[Funny story-still don't actually have my diploma. Yeah, they sent it to the complete wrong address. It'll take at least 10 weeks to get another, and some rando now has my diploma to do God knows what with.]

 I want to write! 

I want to use my talent with the written word in my career because I think that I will really enjoy my job if I do so. However, as some people neglected to tell us as we signed up for this field of study, writers are facing a failing industry. The growing use of the web, compounded with a recession economy, has left little to no room at all for us fresh, newly-trained journalists to squeeze into a job, much less one that we actually enjoy. And don't get me wrong, I'm on board for online writing, but even that market is swollen. Since being home, I've tried to pursue a few intern and job leads, and I've even made some new contacts [who like my blog-yay!], but nothing solid has come of anything.

So I've decided, in the interim, to give more thought to writing a book. I've always wanted to write one anyway, and maybe that's how I can break into writer-stardom and get my name out there.

It's tough out here, man. A girl's got to get creative.

Yours, truly