Unemployment Chronicles: Vol. 2

The sky was crying for a week upon my return from the southwest. Maybe a projection, possibly a reflection.

It's hard to tell.

On the first day that I was no longer getting paid, our earth shook. Was that a call and response?

I can't express my need for her in the most convenient way. I have tried to contact my sugar mama several times, to no avail. True to form, I need special handling. So I phone her.
She doesn't answer. Knowing I'll need her, I crawl. I go to her gatekeeper who gives me a basic card to her riches.
I step back through the teary sky.
Cheap movie matinee: $3, the world as we know it just may end in 2012. The signs are there.
Take a step back, send a message to sugar mama through courier.

The ocean pushes the surfers away, yet he continues to tempt her. Keep casting.

In my nest, I rest, but haven't quit. Days pass without spending. Time is money in the bank though. The self-imposed confinement is both good and necessary. The tears had a great deal to do with that.

While my meager job searching efforts have yet to bear fruit, the crying broke as I pursued the allure to go green. The four of us were young, professional and at varying levels of ambition. The gathering at the Staples Center boasted job opportunities in various green industries.

Perhaps a sign of the times, there were fewer than 10 companies in the job expo section. I walked past. Another sign of the times, some of the booths were requesting donations for the swag. The promise of swag was part of the draw.

Now an experience adding to the fuel to allow things to continue to percolate on the back burner. With visions of a burner strapped across my back, the whole world is in attack mode.

The clock keeps hitting triple digits, 1:11 twice, 4:44 the most memorable. Make a wish, use my foundation and grow.
The pen is my discipline and it is indeed mightier than the sword. Or at least works in consort.