Oh, the conundrum. I love to write. I hate to write. How can this be?
This blog brings me great joy despite the fact that it is read only by a very select, highly evolved group of readers. I have no dearth of ideas and even though it is not easy (I need new words to describe food as my repertoire seems to end at yummy and delicious) it brings me joy when I get it right. Yes. JOY. Which is saying a lot for someone who is fairly cynical. Didn’t someone famous say that cynics are simply hopeless romantics who have been disappointed too often? If not, I claim it!
How much more then does unemployment SUCK for making me hate something I love? When I think of writing in terms of getting a job, I begin to clench my jaw and my shoulders move up to my ears. Have you written over 75 cover letters in 4 months? For different jobs? In different industries? At different skill levels? Probably not. Am I starting to sound bitchy and you’re thinking maybe you should move on to another blog because you’re more than a little afraid I might come right through your screen and hurt you?
You might be thinking (fear aside) that I’m making too much out of it. Any number of these letters are for jobs I have no hope of getting but must apply for in order to satisfy requirements of the state of Oregon (DO NOT get me started on that) so why not use the same letter over and over- remembering only to change the date, job title, and company name. Because I am constitutionally unable to- that’s why I was a goddamn English major and I can no more send out a shitty cover letter than I can ignore a piece of chocolate. Each one must be written as if I really and truly want the job. And just to make sure we’re jumping into the deep end of my psychological pool it’s the same rationale that flourished during much of my dating life- you must like me even though I don’t like you.
The good news is that love is going to win out in this case. Love and years and years of professional counseling and pharmaceutical upkeep. I have no control over my employment situation and it brings me nothing but bad feelings and stress. I have to find a j-o-b, no way around it, but writing for this blog has only reaffirmed my belief that, readers or not, writing is something I am meant to do. Will I ever earn a living at it? Doubtful but I can try. And I can love every minute.
“There is one choice possible, and the test of whether one has chosen rightly can never be made by considering what is best, only by whether one has rightly judged what made one happy…” Isak Dinesen