Infrequently journal entries turn into a blog post; more infrequently blog entries morph into journal writings too personal and private for public airing.
Such is the case this morning and so I change course and topic midstream.
Hushed
I’m resting in the rare luxury provided by the rampager’s presence at work: some peace and quiet and space to breathe and be without flaming assails cast upon me for my presence.
Believe me, you’ve no idea how wonderful it feels to just sit and be for a few moments when all around are poisoning attacks and rejection of your existence.
I don’t care whether people hate me. But get to know me even just a little. Then come to hate me. It’s not playing fair otherwise.
On the Hush-Hush
In short, years of unemployment, more precisely futile efforts at employment, have reminded that there is no place for dreams in this economy.
I quiver and tremble to write that every now and then when a position appears for which I’m suited and/or pays well above the below-poverty level to which I’ve become accustomed, my being goes pitter-patter.
For various reasons, I do not publicly write of job openings or interviews, if Miss Fortune smiles upon me, more aligned with my life purpose than the housecleaning, warehousing and food-service jobs that have characterized my last seven years — when I’ve been fortunate enough to have a job.
Doesn’t mean that I’ve altogther forgotten that a flow of money in my life again, particularly from a source better aligned with my purpose, would do STUPENDOUS WONDERS for ALL areas of my life and self.
Today I dare to think of money above and beyond poverty, with its despair and hardship, because … dare I write it? … dare I? … no. I dare not. I cannot. I cannot allow myself that hope in public. The years have beaten me down that much.
So I shall do what I do well: write around the topic with conservatism, restraint and frugality of word: I would like to have real money again in my life.
It would change EVERYTHING. E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G for the better. For myself and for others.
That is all.
Barefoot Blogger 