I hate January. Our culture views this as a time to start fresh, make resolutions to become better people--or at least engage in some premeditated narcissism. I, on the other hand, hate it because I can't seem to stop myself from being optimistic, "This year will be better than last year; it just can't get any worse." But as the year grows stale and rancid, my hopes inevitably face a slow and painful demise.
I am trapped in this hideous cycle and I am powerless over the passage of time. Why do I always feel like time is running out? When is the deadline? And what exactly am I supposed to have accomplished? It's like being stuck in traffic, but as a permanent state. I have heartburn all the time. I'm not getting enough sleep.
Patrick is reassuring for the most part, but sometimes we feed off of each other and end up insulating ourselves in this cucoon of self-righteous indignation with our us-versus-them dialogue. Basically everyone sucks and it's not our fault. Sometimes we drive around the wealthy western suburbs (when we borrow his dad's truck) and peer in at the multi-million dollar estates and wonder about what one must have to do to make such an obscene amount of money. We can't fathom even earning a living wage from our perspective of a combined income of a meager $26,000 per year. I feel like I'm drowning slowly.
I was the first in my entire family to go to college. It took me ten years to finally graduate, and for what? I have applied to over 150 entry level jobs since May and had one interview. I had to settle for a part-time lower management position in a mall "for the time being" but each month I stay there I fall further and further behind on the rent and all my bills. My home phone was shut off because I couldn't pay the bill--I bought a blazer, slacks, dress shoes and a briefcase-looking bag for that interview instead.
When does it get easier? I have floated at the poverty level my whole life and I always heard that education is the key to gainful employment. So when do I stop struggling?
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