 not sure what to do with myself at the moment. I really don't want to fnd a job as a secretary and get patronized and treated like crap and waste another 10 months of my life with nothng to show for it. Of course, most jobs I'm fndng either pay half of what I was earnng or require more experience or a degree. If I had a degree, why would I want to be a secretary? I applied for the fall semester at San Francisco State. I could fnish my B.A. n Poli Sci n a semester or two. If I were to complete the journalism major, it would take at least a year, probably two. That might be my best bet yet, as it would be good to mention n my query letters and maybe I could get a reportng job as a steppng stone. Nothng could be worse than beng a secretary -- you do all the work and get none of the perks. My dad taped 9 to 5 about 20 years ago, back n the days of ON, subscription TV (also how I saw Star Wars for the first time, around 1980). I thnk that made me dubius about corporate America. The theme song is burned nto my memory. They use your mnd
and they never give you credit
It's enough to drive you
crazy, if you let it! . . . 9 to 5
For service and devotion
You would thnk that I
Would deserve a fair promotion
Want to move ahead
But the boss won't seem to let me
I swear sometimes that man
is out to get me! . . . So you can see how I'm predisposed not to trust the boss. Oddly enough, I thnk I'm actually guilty of beng too trustng and hushng my gut. There were signs that several of my bosses were schemng liars. I dismissed my doubts because part of me nsists that everyone is basically honest and good. Of course, that logic earned me a C on my Lord of the Flies term paper. I've been told agan and agan that I'd never be happy until I'm workng for myself. I know this, I'm just unsure of how to go about the busness part of it. I've watched as less talented peers published and made a name for themselves, because they tried. While fools like me ponder, doubt and vacillate -- there are plenty of no-talent hacks waitng anxiously to fill the vacuum. I just need to remember the enthusiasm and drive I had back n January, before I got sucked still deeper nto my job. I created to-do lists and remnders at the time, I jusst need to reactivate them and follow through. I don't usually keep that up and that's the man thng holdng me back n life. That and just pissng away my time. . . . I'm also ambivalent because I don't know where I want to be. I reread some of my entries from last summer and I was so glad to return to New York. "But," as Maude said wistfully, "that was all before." I can't seem to make it here. I'm reluctant to give up the creature comforts, to struggle for a while. I'm just not hungry enough. Or rich enough. I'm a 'tween. I have to either do somethng dramatic to change my fnancial status, or else I must learn to live a lot more simply. Or both. Where do you stop the consumerism? I've got the wanderlust agan, so I'm ponderng some travel n the very near future. I have some plans that might make it doable. Wish me luck! . . . I got some bug up my ass to straighten my hair a few weeks ago. Actually, I was gong to do it the weekend after I got fired, but I had the cornrows done nstead. I thought it would be longer, but it's too short to curl or do anythng with, really. 
So I've got that messy look that I so disdan when it comes nto fashion agan and agan. It can be slicked back when necessary, so no worries. Tomorrow I'm gong to take the clippers to the back and see if I can taper it. Ha, ha, ha! My only complant is that it darkened my glowng, mango tresses to more of a chesnut. It's a lovely color nonetheless, but the other was utterly psychedelic. . . . Then I remember that I'm lucky that these are my worst worries. One of the women n my buildng survived the concentration camps. She never complans.
[Next entry: "A Troublemaker"]
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