Transitional Blues

Transitions can be scary, just like going from the 44th war criminal to the 45th United States war criminal. Oh wait that was supposed to be president and not war criminal, my mistake. I too am about to experience a transitional phase in my life and since I am a drama king I chose to write a drawn out set of words to illustrate my thoughts instead of venting in a group chat like a normal millennial.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for taking your time out to read this rambling. I’m sure you have more interesting things to do such as scratching your ass, worshipping celebrities on social media, or trolling people on Twitter as you call them racial and homophobic slurs. Actually, I know you’re not doing any of the previously mentioned activities because you’re probably out in the world trying to come up with a plan to achieve world peace.

Honestly, I am terrified of what is to come next. You’re probably thinking I am terrified because I just saw a spider scurry across the wall in front of me and normally that would be the case, but not today. I’m terrified because nothing is coming together like I planned all of this time. I’m sure this is how the United States government must feel daily. But damn it I am not like the US government because I actually have integrity and genuinely care about others, so at least something good should be guaranteed to come way in this life, right?

I just get discouraged because I’ve actually accomplished goals for myself in an effort to set myself up for success, but a lot like your boyfriend’s beard, nothing is connecting. Was that rude of me to say? There’s nothing wrong with a beard that doesn’t connect, it probably doesn’t connect because you don’t watch enough anime or you probably think the Earth is flat. At this point of my life, I do wish the Earth were flat so I could just jump off of it and hopefully land in a better situation. 

I am separating from the military soon and I have yet to find employment or even be accepted into any school’s doctoral program. The military claims to have setup all of these programs for veteran job placement, but it’s really all an illusion just like everything else Uncle Sam does. I can’t even get a job working for a six year old at their lemonade stand.

People are always quick to ask me what kind of job I am looking for or what do I like doing. I respond by telling them I like to write with the intention of making the lives of others a little bit better if I can. People then say, “Oh that’s so cool, you should write a book!” No, I don’t want to write a damn book. And you would not even read it either. What would I write a book about anyway? My only expertise is in falling in love with people who don’t notice me and eating high calorie snacks so basically my books would be episodes of The Parkers. You didn’t get that reference because you’re either too young, hate female leads, or you probably have not even made it this far in the reading because you got upset about me saying your boyfriend’s beard doesn’t connect. Sigh.

I keep being told to just be patient and good things are sure to come my way because God will bless me. Yes, the same God that my ancestors prayed to while they were in chains building a country that wasn’t meant to benefit them is supposedly coming to my rescue. My patience is running thin, razor thin (I totally could use this opportunity to make a joke about your boyfriend’s thin hairline, but that’s just plain mean).

Often times I wonder if everything that I’ve done to build myself up was all in vain. I don’t have wealthy parents so I don’t have time to just sit on my ass and wait for something to happen. I’m not shaped like Beyoncé so being a bottle girl at a club would never work. I’m not popular enough to sell any damn books either.

Someone please send help or maybe some snacks. Actually, just send some snacks because if you send help then someone might call me and I have way too much anxiety to be answering the phone.