Adulthood: The End of Creativity

It's been three months since moving to Champaign from the Peoria suburbs.

Mentally, I am doing a lot better. Aside from coworkers who do not put in 40-hour weeks despite their out-of-state private school bachelor's degree preaching about how socialism decreases the urge to work, I have not ran into anybody that I am trying to figure out how to instigate a fight with. And that is really more hyperbole on my behalf. If you are not partaking an adult beverage, you are willing to concede other societal issues, and not being a jerk about it, I do not feel inclined to post your address online when the revolution begins.

There were a few comedians (just one, but I gotta assume he can't be the only one) who performed at The Accord that brought their Trump-like rants to The Blind Pig, but people who noticed me visibly trying to restrain a left-wing outburst (coincidentally, my left is my best striking hand) were quick to speak of their discontent with these assholes to me. Hence, I know I am not alone in a crowd in this college town.

It is probably a good thing that I did not move to this environment out of high school. Coming from Morton and focusing on drinking and coasting to a BA, I would probably leave the university as an entitled twat. Being an introvert with that attitude seems to be a lonelier existence than the one I had as a bleeding heart in Peoria. With the latter, I at least knew why I was on my own for the past two years.

There always seems to be a scene down here for me. I am with a great girl right now. The only thing I do not have going in my direction is that my employer sells themselves as the type who would sack me for using the Internet for expression and the hours I work do not allow me the chance to try netwoking/shopping my pro-wrestling themed zom-com B-movie script "Main Event of the Dead" (If you would like a treatment of the screenplay, just send a request to russthebus07@gmail.com. I also encourage the donation of ideas to promote the project to a crowd-funding stage). Also, I did not have the cash/credit to go to Barnes and Noble to buy a new journal to start working on (and if I'm not going to be in Morton for a while, I can't have Amazon packages piling up on my parents door. Don't want the "if you can afford this lecture"). If only dedicating eight hours to my employer in a night actually paid eight hours.

This blog is actually being written as I am at my parents, killing time before a doctor's appointment and avoiding their hatred for the most qualified person to ever run for president. My place is not really suited for me to use a computer in (too small and it seems my battery isn't worth a damn on my snail-paced laptop). The "Fucking Brilliant" journal I ordered from Amazon has finally arrived, so I will have no reason not to get back to practicing on how to write good (Anyone know where I can find Blag Dahlia's essays online? Why does my big sis have Yahoo as the default search engine in Chrome is a more perplexing question). What my dilemma is currently is how do I to get my works to the next level and whether or not I can afford to do so.

My current residence in Champaign is where you have to wonder whether you heard gun shots or fireworks outside your window. I have stories, but I am not even going to risk anything that may seem to be snitching. Some neighbor might be able to hack my WiFi or even afford it on their own (the rent is $483 in the CU, if you can only afford that, you can make poor jokes) and read this blog. It was more of a last minute move, so I was willing to spend more. After settling in, I am wondering if I can do that now.

I like my current job, but I also like the freedom to look around for better ones, so working up the management hierarchy may not be my thing. So to advance in my field, I'd probably have to go back to junior college again to even get a footing on transferring to a university. That was kind of the reason that I just up and moved to the university town that had forsaken me in 1998 and that I swore never to attend. The suggested course of action was go back to ICC and then go to Bradley. It might just be me, I cannot take the path of least resistance. Where is the adventure?

The point is, will I have time to work on my passions with school and a full-time job? Accounting does not seem to be a subject I will be enthused about dedicating my free time to, so will I want to stick to it? And then there is the entire concept of feeling too old to get my Bachelor's at 40.

The other option is get another job. I can stand working 15 hours a week at a job I like, but my current job's hours make that tough.

So, I'm back to needing a break. How many times do I have to put in the extraordinary effort to endure the monotony of adulthood to get to focus on a passion? It took a lot of mental effort to get to where I am now, but surviving still feels like it is the most I can do.

At least, I do not feel mad at the world right now. Enjoy the time on certainty I suppose. Come the first Tuesday in November, who knows?