Talkin' Voluntary Underemployment Blues

At one time, if you’d told me that it can be tough to be not working, I wouldn’t have believed you. But I tell you, it’s been sort of tough. Going to a job every day, even if it was one I didn’t entirely like and didn’t entirely believe in, gave me at least the semblance of being productively occupied. And, more importantly, kept my mind from wandering. You keep busy enough, you don’t have time to think about what you might rather be doing, or poor decisions that may have led you to doing what you are doing, or the long and poorly-marked road that might lead to doing something different. You don’t wake up at 8:30 am feeling like a chump, noticing that everyone else in the house has gone off to serve society while you don’t even have a reason to get dressed before dark.

I’m going back to Green Acres soon, until I can formulate at least a temporary plan. I’m wary, though—some bad shit has gone down there while I’ve been away. I’m starting to feel like I’m pushing my luck; four and a half years there without losing any teeth or getting my trachea crushed—as happened to a great young staff person there a couple weeks ago.