This is the moment.
They tell me my time
Is running out
before reality strikes.
Insurance runs out.
Job interviews replace studying
In grubby flannel pants over a reheated slice of costco pizza;
It's the cheapest.
Forming an unpleasant ball in my stomach.

Sweat breaks out as I stray back to my subject:
no job, no prospects, no portfolio.
"You need a larger clipping," the editor told me while he gently broke up with me over a plate of teriyaki chicken.
(I had no appetite without THC.)
And we made promises I don't have time to keep.

I need a deadline.
I need to quit my new job.
It was a huge mistake;
I detest tutoring people. I'm glad I found out now, before I tried to be a teacher.

I'm too sarcastic,
I can't hold it in forever.
I may snap
Over a preparatory english essay.

09/23/2005

Author's Note: geh. just a series of tangents about my life lately. God, I hate being a tutor. I don't know what I was thinking.

Posted on 09/24/2005
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