Every now and then a feeling of absolute dread comes over me. I start with the I’m never getting a real job, never ever going to buy lovely Diane Von Furstenburg wrap dress, and always going to cry myself to sleep with my yellow lab Clyde licking tears from my face. It’s an inevitable feeling. One hellbent on crushing my soul and driving me towards Hershey’s Symphony bars, but then I figure “If this isn’t the perfect time to be a poor writer, when else would be?” When else would be? If you’re young, broke, and full of the postgraduate mopes, this is an excellent time to throw yourself into your work and make things happen. Inventiveness isn’t a thing of the past, but the way of the future.
If you’re anything like me, you have little to no desire in attaining or pretending to give two damns about a 9 to 5. The world has never been solely comprised of by the book people and it never will be. I’ll admit, for the past couple months I’ve been beating myself up with the perpetual hunt for approving work. Approving in the sense that it makes other people comfortable when I tell them what I do, or what I’m about. Approving in the sense that pay is consistent, bi-weekly. This isn’t enough for me. Going through the motions never really is.
What I want is creative and intellectual fulfillment, a reason to be glad to get up and out in the world. I want to know that my life’s work was to the benefit of something; whether it be societal, art specific, or having some emotional tie with another human being. That’s what I’m striving toward and what many poor writers are striving towards as well.
Often enough I’ll get advice from someone older, and more recently my own age, with a job in tow, gathering their two cents to throw into my charity bucket. While their advice can be uplifting, some of it’s just insulting. I had a woman, who I was having a casual conversation with in a department store, tell me my education and ambitions were a waste of money and time. “I’d never in a million years let my child study that. Hmmph, maybe business, or psychology.” Last time I checked, millennials in general are BROKE.
At times a huge WHATEVER needs to be said to those pulling you in every which direction. If you know what you want, follow it. If you don’t know, you’ll get there one day and no one can exactly how to do it, or what it will be. Life’s an experience. Let it roll.