Imagine

The Rainbow Lies in the Curve of the Sand. (1901) John Reinhard Weguelin.

“Those who fear the imagination condemn it: something childish, they say, something monsterish, misbegotten. Not all of us dream awake. But those of us who do have no choice.”
~Patricia A. McKillip

I was hanging out with a friend today, and she said something about how when you work towards something, taking positive action towards a goal, life has a tendency to work out the way you want it.  That wasn't it exactly, but you get the idea.  After she said this, I grumbled something about finding it hard to find motivation to do anything, which was a real downer, and shortly thereafter our conversation ended.  Now, I don't think our conversation ended because of my comment - by that time we'd been talking for about an hour, and we both have lives we have to lead, chores to do, and the like - but I still wouldn't be surprised if my comment had something to do with it.  I'm pretty sure my friends are just as tired of hearing me whine and complain about my life as I am to do the actual whining.

That, however, is not the point.

Something struck me at that point in the conversation, started nibbling away at a corner of my brain, a thought that needed to be examined later - after our conversation was truly over, and it was this:

I am suffering from a profound lack of imagination.

Or maybe I should call it "practical imagination."  It's sad really, I can dream up a thousand fantastical stories, but I just can seem to think of any action to take to get out of my current state, let alone positive action.  Everything seems to lead to more standing still.  I'm applying for jobs, but that's not getting me anywhere, and I just can't think of what else to do.  What can I do?  I'm bogged down in this quagmire, and truly have no clue.

The trouble, I think, is that I don't know the rules of the outside world.  I understood school.  In university I knew exactly where I stood, and where, ultimately, I was heading.  The real world?  I'm completely lost.  I'm a cog that was left out of the grand machine of full time employment.  Then, not only am I a cog, but I'm a cog that graduated with a bazillion other cogs that fit just a little bit better than me.  What's a girl to do?

It's obvious that whatever I do, I won't be able to do it the easy way - if that even exists.  But what steps to take?  I don't even know that.  I just keep blundering around and losing my footing.  What do I want to do?  I'm not even sure of that.  Mostly I just want to work one full time job that pays a decent wage - and hopefully offers insurance - while figuring out my next step.  It'd be awesome if that job could be in a library, but I'm rapidly losing hope in that prospect, but anything.  Right now, I work around 50 hours a week (my commute is added in) at two part time jobs and still only make around 17k a year.  I can't move out of my parents house.

But what do I want?

I want a little place of my own.  One that I can share with my cat.  I want to be comfortable dating again (there's no way I'd invite a guy to stay the night at my folks' house, though that's not my only excuse).  I want work I find rewarding.  I want to be able to pay back my student loans.  I want to be able to take a vacation somewhere at least once every couple of years.  I want a future, but I don't know how to go about getting it.

At the start of this year I wrote that I wanted to pursue writing as a career.  It's something that I wanted to do as a kid, through high school, and my first couple of years at college.  Somewhere along the way I lost it.  Maybe my inability to find a job is my gods/the universe telling me that I need to get back on that path.  I'm not really sure, but there's no harm in trying.  Of course, it would be easier if I had a full time job to support myself while writing (hint-hint, gods, hint-freaking-hint), but I don't know if that's going to happen.  What was the last count before I quit keeping track?  Eight-hundred-fifty-something applications, five interviews, eight-hundred-fifty-something rejections.  (Oh yeah, I had my fifth interview for a full time position at the library for which I currently work in a part time position last week, it went really well, but they decided to go another way.  Nicest rejection I've gotten so far.)

Will sitting down to write a novel be my positive action?  Will it be enough?  I wish I knew.  A part of me says that I could totally do it - live my dream and all that.  Another part of me urges practicality.  I'm not sure there's a way to balance the two.

Hopefully I'll get this figured out within the next couple of months.

Well anyway, wish me luck - the good kind please!