Confessions of an Unemployed American Writer

Hippy Hippity!! I’m now a paid unemployed writer, my dream come true! My employer didn’t fight my unemployment claim so barring any crazy circumstances I should get paid very soon! I will continue my knitting and daily writing in addition to my job hunting and house cleaning duties. I was very nervous for my fact finding interview but it wasn’t too bad. The worst part was the long wait before they hand you any money, not to mention the tiny amount they are going to give me to live on.

Luckily, communal living is helping greatly. One of my roommates just lost a job recently as well. Ho hum, but life is too short to worry about jobs, money and bills all the time. Just this morning a debt collector called me and it started upsetting me. You see, I refuse to talk to those people anymore. I paid all my debts when I could afford to pay for things beyond rent and utilities but now feel I’ve paid enough. I shouldn’t pick up the slack for a country that failed me and many of its “best and brightest”.

Can anyone tell me why the only debt that can’t be magically erased is student loan debt? Why are they targeting aging parents and grandparents and, no offense, some people who are only slightly smarter than bricks and giving them expensive loans for schooling they more than likely won’t finish? I went to school and thankfully they did teach me to put two-and-two together but, unfortunately, most Americans are not smarter than fifth graders and, even our fifth graders can only read about half of the time.
I’m not here to get down on my place of birth (and most likely death…possibly in the next year or so, who knows!)

My point is that I really do take pleasures in the simple tasks: writing a blog, taking pictures of nature, playing with animals, having good conversations, editing videos and listening to music. I love being American if that means I get to stand up for what I believe in and that everyone who is willing to work has a fair shot at a decent and respectable life. I dislike that Americans are overly materialistic and always in a hurry. I get stressed easily and have no more time to waste killing myself with worry and doubt. I’m a great person, a decent writer, and have something to say in a country where I was raised to believe I was allowed to do so.

That’s the part of the American dream everyone is always quoting isn’t it? “FREEDOM OF SPEECH!”

My favorite writers never seemed to be American, at least not the typical ones. I do, however, adore: Edgar Allan Poe, Theodore Roethke, Emily Dickinson, Hunter S. Thompson and T.S. Eliot who is actually taught in British literature courses despite being born in St. Louis, Missouri! I felt I had something to add to the canon of American writers, artists, filmmakers and musicians.

As a kid I read constantly and dreamed of writing novels. Looking back I more closely resembled a screenwriter or director, even film editor the way I would set up a shot with my eye and wish for a record button in my brain. I was very imaginative: Mud puddles could become rivers, nearby businesses transformed into fast food drive-thrus, my bike doubled for a sparkly blue horse, complete with jump rope reigns, and stolen boxes were fashioned into tiny homes until they were thrown back into their dumpsters.

I remember a running commentary in my mind from an early age. I was forever fascinated by photography and video cameras. I devoured movie after movie and hosted and recorded my own radio shows. I used to be quite the ham! I may be a bit more shy now but I still don’t mind being in front of the camera, as long as I’m the one holding it!

So, what’s next for this unemployed writer? Hopefully, a much needed paycheck and another idea to blog about tomorrow!

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