There is something that repulses me about my boss
I can’t hold it against her
I don’t even know what it is
All I know is, that I want to get away from her.
When she is polite, it’s worse.
She giggles about some witty dialogue in a meeting,
while I think about blowing my brains out.
It’s like the seconds are being strangled
I don’t say this out of any meanness
I’m sure that she is a good person
I wish I could enjoy her, and we could be colleagues
but the same feeling is overwhelming
we occupy the same space.
This feeling goes for most writers I read
or the people I listen to on podcasts, speaking of their success.
Now, this is dangerous territory for me
when I tell my dad I don’t like Stephen King.
“Sure, I like his ideas, and I like the movies, but his books are too big. I end up getting lost in his story and stop reading.”
My dad looks at me with raised eyebrows, like it’s obvious I’m jealous of him, or something like that.
I don’t care. I just know that he depresses me, eventually, and I’ve read his book On Writing ten times.
There’s some good advice in there, but his writing doesn’t hold up.
I want to be him, but only for his success.
The writing is a whole other matter. It doesn’t speak to me at all. It makes me cringe.
Now, I feel this is a fair statement because many editors have told me my writing makes them cringe,
and I can see why they would say that, which makes me smile.
“I send my stuff to feminist publishers,” I tell my mother, “And I get the most interesting rejections.”
“You have a strange sense of humor, Andy” she tells me.
Maybe, I have lost it, and I’m not even trying to find it.
I could get a job that pays me twice as much money, but I don’t.
The reason is, my life isn’t for sale. The thought of being paid for my time is horrific.
Would you trade a year of your life for a million dollars?
People do it all the time at jobs, but they are caught between starvation and madness.
My friend just got a really good job
and he wants to buy expensive things with his time.
All I want is my freedom
and the ability to do it well, whatever that might be.
Most people and most things
I have to limp along until I find salvation.
Usually, the things that give me a sense of myself
but they always take my time,
and I give it over, willingly.