What’s going on?


     Let’s see….I am listening to the music of Augustin Barrios-Mangore right now on Pandora.com.  Calm classical guitar music, soothing and relaxed, kinda thing that takes the mind off of stressful situations.  I’ve been thinking an awful lot about work and finances the last few days, more than I usually do, and my mind is on these two subjects most of the time, even in the best of times.  There is for me personally, a sense of foreboding ,about my current financial situation, a feeling that things bad as they are, will get worse before they get better.  I send in resumes, I go to agencies, I get tested to see what I’m good at.  No contact after that.  Nothing.  I called a place today just to make sure they received the resume I sent in, even though I knew they received it, just to make sure they… well…actually to talk to a real live human being, to make sure they knew I existed. 

    This being the 4th resume I’ve sent to this particular company, for the 4th different position there.

     It feels hopeless sometimes, that is just me feeling down though. It’ll pick up… I’m made of sterner stuff than that, but I am only human.  I can only do so much, if they won’t hire, I can’t work.  I contact them, but if they don’t contact me back, I can do nothing.  I don’t mind being broke, that happens, Up and down happens to everyone, and this is just a down time for me, but it is the impotent feeling that accompanies this, the inability to actually make someone stand up and take notice when I am doing all I can to get them to take notice that frustrates me.

    If anyone has any job hunting strategies or anything that would help on that front, drop me a line. 

    And despite my feeling the way I do, there are people worse off than I am.  I’m happy that I have a roof over my head and the small help of the unemployment check makes things easier.  Without it, my wife and I would have had to move out of the apartment we live in by now.

   Some say the government is too intrusive, too big, spends too much.  Right now the government is the difference between me and my wife having an apartment, and us being a burden on someone else, taking up their space, eating their food, using up their resources, or worst of all, homeless with winter coming.  I won’t bite the hand that is, right now at least, feeding me. 

_____________________________________________________________

    The music has changed to Fernando Sor, a virtuoso 19th century classical guitarist.  The lights are entirely too bright, but my wife is blogging on her laptop as we speak, and needs the light to write.  I can see in the semi-dark of the screen just fine, but my vision is better than my wife’s so I’ll handle it, no big deal really.  I just prefer semi-darkness to light, light is not something to really complain about.

    Looking over my left shoulder I see one of my two cats, Roddy, sleeping peacefully, semi-curled up in a ball, front paws pushing straight out on the inside of the small bed we bought him, brown exterior with flower patterns stitched in, with a wool-like inside that he only ever sleeps on when it gets cold.  Comfy cat is comfy.  As I lift my gaze from roddod, that being what we call him, there are two mandolins sitting next to one another, leaning at odd angles in front of the book case which is fairly well overstuffed with books.

    Maybe 125 works of science fiction, most of which I haven’t read in years, mainly from a few authors, men who have shaped ,in some small way, I hope, the way I write.  Isaac Asimov, Robert Heinlein, Stephen R. Donaldson, Douglas Adams.  Most of the political and philosophical works that I own are shrouded from view by the assorted knick-knacks that sit on the front of the bookcase, from picture frames and mementos from our wedding day and various family members pictures, placed in such a way as to suggest that they are there not only because they look good where they are, but because there is no other place to put them.

     Well, a few of the non Sci-Fi works do stick out.   I can make out De Tocqueville’s “Democracy in America”, looking slightly worse for wear, corners bent, sitting on top of an as of yet unread copy of Adam Smith’s unabridged “Wealth of Nations”, and Walden is there, buried under Descartes, Chaucer, and 1,001 gardening secrets, and on top of Thomas Paine’s “Common Sense”.  

   Just describing what my world looks like. Hope you don’t mind.

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That’s it from here.  Later!

Today’s nuggets, one of Aesop’s Fables, Via ETC at the University of Virginia:   

Hercules and the Wagoner

    A CARTER was driving a wagon along a country lane, when the wheels sank down deep into a rut. The rustic driver, stupefied and aghast, stood looking at the wagon, and did nothing but utter loud cries to Hercules to come and help him. Hercules, it is said, appeared and thus addressed him: “Put your shoulders to the wheels, my man. Goad on your bullocks, and never more pray to me for help, until you have done your best to help yourself, or depend upon it you will henceforth pray in vain.”

Self-help is the best help.

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