Real World:  OK Joshua, your education is all done.

Josh:  Really?  Whoohoo!  What do I win?

Real World:  Well, you get $100,000+ of debt and menial work completely unrelated to your degree.

Josh:  But…but the degree is the reason I owe so much.

Real World:  Them’s the breaks kid.

Josh:  Damn…

Real World:  OK.  ‘Nuff talk.  Back in line.

Josh:  It’s so long…where does this one end?

Real World:  Late retirement.

Josh:  Fuck.

Argh!

There are so many stresses and traumas that can completely floor other people (that I’ve observed)…but have little affect on me.  Certain things that cause rage or despair or depression or that eats away at self-esteem and sanity . . . and most of these things roll off me like rain drops.  I am impermeable.

But you take everyday, ordinary banality…and I have no defense, I dry right up into a husk—keel over like the aliens exposed to the common cold at the end of War of the Worlds (and I don’t even get Orson Welles to narrate it . . . well . . . sometimes I do, if I close my eyes and imagine).  All my Quixotic manias dry up and I’m left feeling hollow and useless.  Not even a week into my White Hen job and I feel it.  Broken down…I owe about $1,200 a month in minimum payments . . . and working full time I make…well…pretty much that—nothing left for gas or savings or anything else.  So thoughts of living on my own or getting on with a real career seem pretty distant…maybe when I’m in my late 30’s I can get an apartment…maybe in my 40’s I could date again…

And, running under the gun of monthly payments…I’m not so sure I have the time to do the professional things I want to do, or take the creative-crazy steps to get out of this.  When was the last time I really wrote something?  Ugh…too long.  And to top it all off, with a rancid cherry, I know that plenty of other people have to do the grind (my Dad included) and work hard so I can’t even get the satisfaction of really, really whining about this in a dramatic fashion without feeling selfish and silly.  In fact, I’m only going to allow myself three paragraphs . . . which I’ve pretty much used up.

Ah well…Fall is here and that feels good and I feel that if I could only put on a silly rubber mask and play in a giant pile of leaves I might get back something of my old self.

I miss getting regular, in-depth time with my close friends.  I see people…but on a scattered basis these days.  I want to go running with Torrie every day and hang out and play Mario Cart.  I want to have rehearsals with Rich Funk every weekday.  I want…ok…I was going to make a whole list of all of you and some activity I like doing with all of you…but there are a lot of you and I hope you forgive me if I end here (in the interest of getting to bed…this 3rd shift monkey is tired).  I want to go on an IGA run or a late night outing (minus Central IL cops freaking out and searching me for weapons…but at this point, I’d accept that as the price).

On to happier things.  The MEDIEVAL TIMES AUDITION…a lot of people asked me about it.  It went well…I think.  Hard to tell.  It was very quick…but didn’t feel dismissive.  I was a little nervous (I haven’t had a real audition in a while).  But we’ll see.  I tried out for the King and for the MC positions (the MC being the witty, right-hand man of the king and host of the show). They said they’ll hold call backs next week and those they call will actually get microphone and run the lines in the main space.  I have to say, it was cool to go for an audition/interview in a castle and even cooler to hear, “We’ll do the audition in Hall of Arms.”  Also, my little sis tried out for a princess/maiden role as well.  Good luck…to us 🙂

Oh.  The sun is up.  I have to go hang upside-down in my closet now . . .