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Desperation: this is what it sounds like.
Mar. 15th, 2010 03:24 pmAnd thus, today begins that last week in which I am a full-fledged member of the Free-Money-From-The-Government Club (Street Name: Club 405). I honestly have to say, when I filled out the paperwork for this months ago, I really, truly believed that I wouldn't need more than a few months of supplemental salary, because I was going to land in a production job that would utilize my talents, and my days of sitting in a cubicle with a bunch of financial nerds looking sideways at my pink hair and black frame glasses were over.
I have run wardrobe on dozens of shows, helped to dress at least a hundred dancers and actors, fixed costumes, set wigs, lifted scenery, run lights, set up events, staged managed 6 runs, and helped produce 1 awards show, and I think I've probably grossed $1500 this year of my own earnings.
Not really enough to pay rent.
Right now, the only option that seems even a minor possibility is temping at another financial institution, which gives me an ache in the pit of my stomach. I feel completely stuck with what to do next. Every birthday candle blown, fallen eyelash, or coin toss into a fountain is accompanied by a wish for a job I don't completely loathe.
while my privacy-loving personality really wants to make this a friends-only post (and I will probably lock it later), I have to wonder if there's somebody out in the ether of the Internet, floating around out there, with the one idea or suggestion I haven't thought of yet. Lord knows, at this point, I would take it.
I have run wardrobe on dozens of shows, helped to dress at least a hundred dancers and actors, fixed costumes, set wigs, lifted scenery, run lights, set up events, staged managed 6 runs, and helped produce 1 awards show, and I think I've probably grossed $1500 this year of my own earnings.
Not really enough to pay rent.
Right now, the only option that seems even a minor possibility is temping at another financial institution, which gives me an ache in the pit of my stomach. I feel completely stuck with what to do next. Every birthday candle blown, fallen eyelash, or coin toss into a fountain is accompanied by a wish for a job I don't completely loathe.
while my privacy-loving personality really wants to make this a friends-only post (and I will probably lock it later), I have to wonder if there's somebody out in the ether of the Internet, floating around out there, with the one idea or suggestion I haven't thought of yet. Lord knows, at this point, I would take it.
