Monday, January 10, 2011
I Can't Think of a Good Name for My Ukulele...
I've been playing my ukulele pretty consistently since I got it for my birthday a month ago. With a full-time job, I don't have the kind of time writing, practicing, and socializing requires. I have to pick and choose. This is why I've fallen behind on my blogs. I feel guilty for always choosing my ukulele, especially in regards to my vegan blog because I care so much about it. It's just that I come home from work feel completely deflated. Once I come through my bedroom door, I put my things down, I instinctively find myself reaching for my uke. As I play though the song I worked on the night before to see what stuck, my uneasiness from work dissipates and I feel ok again. Then I shower, eat, catch up on online stuff, find a new song to try, sleep, and everything starts over again.
Despite the ukulele's happy-go-lucky image, I can't help but feel hardcore as I push on my calluses at my cash register at work.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Paper or Plastic?
Last year at this time, I was awarded a piece of paper that says I went somewhere, learned a bunch of stuff, and paid a bunch of money. Since this time, I have been paying back a lot of this money (though I've barely dented the debt).
I've been working shit jobs for a little over a year now. Other people can do it and I think no less of them. It's a different kind of smart that allows a person to just be content. A different kind of smart that escapes me. Some of my co-workers have been asking "paper or plastic?" for 12 + years. I can't do this though. These jobs tear at me. This sounds over-dramatic and it is. I know that things could be much worse. I just wish I could be creating something meaningful or helpful. I feel worthless knowing that I am contributing so little to the world. I have so much enthusiasm, intelligence, creativity, and kindness, that I know I could give much more. I deserve more too. Not necessarily money though, I'd take it.
I've been working shit jobs for a little over a year now. Other people can do it and I think no less of them. It's a different kind of smart that allows a person to just be content. A different kind of smart that escapes me. Some of my co-workers have been asking "paper or plastic?" for 12 + years. I can't do this though. These jobs tear at me. This sounds over-dramatic and it is. I know that things could be much worse. I just wish I could be creating something meaningful or helpful. I feel worthless knowing that I am contributing so little to the world. I have so much enthusiasm, intelligence, creativity, and kindness, that I know I could give much more. I deserve more too. Not necessarily money though, I'd take it.
"I'm just scared that it's not going to get any better than this." ~ Edward D. Wood Jr. ~ Ed Wood
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