I was so close this summer to accomplish my goals.
They offered me a gig that was pretty swell. I was happy. I was going to have constant work. Pretty easy work. And very well paid. Paid enough that if I wanted to move San Diego, I could have. But it never materialized. I underworked for less than 2 months and nothing ever came from it. My goals for 2016 were not accomplished. The year is almost over and I didn’t manage to do what I wanted too. I came close. And I had a chance to go on a road trip vacation. I grew from previous years. But not nearly enough to what I wanted, not nearly enough for me to be satisfied.
And I can’t believe it’s almost at an end. It went faster than fast. Tijuana days are like internet days. Everything moves faster. What came out a month ago, it already seems like it has been a year. Changes come at you way to often. And before your know it, the year is over.
Back to the drawing board. Yep. One heavy hit rejection made me re-configure my life. I really thought I had a great story. Then the cover story that came out today is clickbait with no sustenance. The days we are living in.
Back to checking out shit on craigslist.
Nude models wanted.
Unpaid writing gig.
Shitty job which many requirements and no pay.
More job scams.
More unpaid gigs or way underpaid with promises of making larger pay later.
More nude models wanted.
Fuck looking for jobs on craigslist. It’s probably one of the most excruciating experiences. Yep. Not losing a child. Or cancer. Looking for a job on fucking craigslist.
Thanks for being so nice. I got a couple of emails and a bunch of messages to cheer up. To not give up. Everyone’s life also sucks (or sucked at some point)!
I just want some monotony. I know that’s dumb for me to say. But just some. Not everyday monotony. But at least a couple of days routine. Mindless dumb routine for money. If challenging even better. I just want something steady that at the end I know I’ll have money in my pocket. Not the every two weeks coin toss to see if I was good or not. And it makes even tougher when the ones you doubt, get paid, and the ones you are sure about, don’t.
But it’s too early to look back at the year just yet. Thanksgiving is tomorrow. That’s the final stretch. Supermarkets have Christmas music on. And as a broke single 30 year old, well, Christmas time is a shitty existence. At least Christmas eve will have some cool family time. Thanksgiving as well. Family is good.
My friends from LA canceled the visit. That’s fine. I should go up to LA soon. Get away from it all for a couple of days. Friends always make me feel so much better. Thanks for that friends.
But for now. Back to the drawing board. I need to branch out. Write them silly articles that pay but are no fun. Those clickbaity things that work. People want garbage. Garbage pays. After all, I was a fucking paparazzo and that was the best paying job I ever had. Taking pictures of fucking celebrities.
If people want garbage, might as well give it to them.
This was LA Bisho. AKA Smidge Bisho I.
I lived in Curson and Rosewood. Allegedly, Jennifer Aniston lived there when she wasn’t famous. That apartment was cool. I got street-parking tickets all the time. That sucked. Rent was $2,000 back then. I am certain that it is way more now.
Ok. Back to craigslist.
Back to writing other stuff.
Yesterday after the heartbreak, I still had to finish stuff. I finished three articles. Kinda. Repaired two. Finished one. All sent. I won’t see results in a long time. And some of the benefits were already reaped.