Over it and ready to get out

According to Forbes Magazine, St. Louis is America’s #10 most miserable city in 2009.  Says the website, “The Gateway City scored in the bottom half of all nine categories we looked at for the Forbes Misery Measure. It was the only metro area to pull off that feat.”  Oh, St. Louis.  You are doing me proud.  Surprisingly, Chicago placed ahead of my hometown at #3, which I don’t know if I would necessarily agree with.  But then, I haven’t lived there.  I could wax philosophical about the presence of St. Louis on this list, but it is neither surprising nor especially interesting to me, because my life has been miserable here for a while now.  I didn’t need a magazine to tell me I need to get out of this crazy town.

My bout of bitterness over high-earning executives has largely abated.  I think I am starting to really, finally, settle into unemployment, something that is both comforting and terrifying (terrifying because unless something crazy happens, it is likely I will be this way for a while).  It’s not really a huge change for me; I think it just requires accepting the fact that I can’t afford anything, and accepting the fact that it’s probably going to be that way for a while.  And it also requires a lot of hope that nothing (else) that I own breaks.  Because losing the shelf that was suction-cupped to my shower walls (on which I kept my shampoo and soap)—and knowing that I will not be able to replace it because it is cheaper just to keep everything on the floor—was a humbling experience for me. 

Obviously I am always looking for new leads on jobs, but I am not terribly hopeful that I will find something more fantastic, or even equally in the same league of fantasticness, as the two jobs for which I have already interviewed (and from which I have not heard back, in case you were wondering).  Things that I would not mind doing all day every day: singing, writing, voiceover work, talking to people, eating noodles, singing about noodles.  I will settle for answering phones or preparing mailings for an opera or theatre company.  Pretty much anything that will allow me to start saving money.  Because the next time I don’t have a day job and make all of my money from singing, I want to be able to afford neckties in case of emergency.