I quit my auditing job on Monday, right after I got back from Italy. I shouldn’t have done that, because now I don’t have a job, and I DO have a mortgage. The reason I did was because. Oh IDIOCY, they didn’t want to promote me because I wasn’t passionate about accounting, despite the fact that I met my budgets, and do my job efficiently and well. Whatever. It’s the truth, and if it’s the truth that I’m not passionate about what I do, I shouldn’t do it, right?
I just chose to do it at the wrong time. This is two weeks now, before I go on the China Trip with my University as their translator/TA, and I realized that if I hadn’t quit, I wouldn’t be so screwed for money. I could’ve waited till I got back, found another job, and then quit my job.
Now I HAVE found another job, but because it starts like next week, I can’t go to China. And I need to have income for at least the next three months.
In three months, I am going to move to China to write a screenplay with my friend who lives in Beijing. Hopefully, he’ll have a dayjob lined up for me at that time. If he doesn’t, I’ll still go, I think, and live on my savings, and hope the screenplay pans out well. He has a potential buyer lined up for it, and the income from that would set me us for two or three years in China without a job. Then we could look for more screenplays to write, I’d have time to focus on my writing, and get some real stuff accomplished.
But if I want savings for the time we’re writing the screenplay, I HAVE to work, right now.
I shouldn’t have quit in such a fit of passion. GOD DAMMIT.
So between now and August, I have to rent out my place, secure a job in China, and save up mondo money.
It’s a big change, the future looks bright, my emotions are fluctuating from extreme optimism and joy to utter fear. It’s like I’m hang gliding above a bottomless pit, you know? It’s like I’m a leaf on the wind.
Also, my man and I would have to separate for nine months until he graduates and joins me in China to teach english.
I’m so stressed that I can’t sleep for hours at night, and usually I’m out like a light. I actually spent most of Tuesday night unable to sleep, trembling through my fingers, in anticipation and in fear of uncertainty.
I haven’t written in a week, and I know that it’s because of the whirlwind that’s going on, but I’m afraid to get rusty. Anyways, that’s why I have been gone.
Wish me luck, whoever out there is reading.
Actually it’s a lie that I haven’t written I did write one, but usually I write like two or three a day. Anyway, here it is: a poem I wrote a few days ago about Arizona heat, and how much I hate it.
High frequency scream
felt between my eyes.
Blocked up paradox
of a horrible vast sky
imprinted in each minute cone
of my flowering iris eye.
My body is arid,
Yellow with fever,
Sweat makes hidden pools
where my back
touches the ground.
Oases bloom behind knees
and pool under palms.
When I roll into shade,
the sweat’s a shadow
that fades in beats
before wide bleached eyes.