In Media Res

And lo begins this point in the tale in which I realize that finding a job in Detroit is exactly as hard as people have said it is.  Possibly even harder, because I have one of those personal fulfillment / artsy-fartsy degrees that make people assume that I'm frivolous and self indulgent which, in their defense, is a little bit true. 

Furthermore, places that don't require any sort of college education (restaurants, clerk jobs, etc) assume that because I have a degree that I will flit off at the first sign of something better, and in their defense they're right to think so, except that if you look at the above paragraph, you'll see how evidently unlikely that is.

I wrote a novel!

I had hoped against hope that Detroit would be my Penelope, bravely waiting for me to make my way back while eschewing suitors and keeping my bed warm until the day I came home and killed everyone with a bow and arrow. Instead, Detroit has proven a bit more like my Tithonos, living beyond it's appointed hour and growing old and dessicated in the process.  Yeah, I just went all kinds of Classical on your ass.

So sadly I have broadened my search to include not just Detroit, but all of Michigan, not that that's going much better.  I'm getting front-row seats to Michigan's crippling economic depression show, which is a little bit like a Tijuana Donkey Show, but replace the Donkey with the ravages of time, and the woman with my bank account and optimism.  The howling cheering Mexicans are probably still howling cheering Mexicans, but I'm too tired to make a NAFTA joke, so you'll have to do it yourself.

More like Go Broke, amirite?

So the competition is fierce and the rewards are spartan.  I'm still fighting the good fight, but I'm noticing that I'm wearing a shirt around the house less and less, and showers are becoming an afternoon sort of thing.  Half my energy goes into canvassing restaurants, bars, and video stores filling out applications, and the other half goes into keeping my spirits up. As a friend of mine pointed out, all this free time would be great if it weren't in large part being swallowed up by job seeking and crippling anxiety.

I can't help but think that, maybe, I could have planned this better.

Regardless, I'm hanging in and moving forward - ask not what I can do for you, but ask what kinds of booze you can bring to me (I'm partial to gin, red wine, and malt liquor).  I am ever more keenly aware of my transient place in space and time, and naturally I am reminded of the old Sufi expression This too shall pass, and other things that wind up as trashy tattoos like the only thing constant is CHANGE! and also yin-yangs, Tasmanian devils, Chinese "symbols," and fairies.

In other words, it won't be long until I look back on all this and laugh, laugh, laugh.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

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