Your Ass is Grass.

Here is what it's like to be unemployed, via direct remarks, text messages, and other endearing outlets:

Brother:  "Get a f*cking job."

Cousin: "how goes the job hunt"

Mother:  "...can you at least pretend to look busy when I'm around?"

Father:  "Take care of the lawn for me today, yeah?"

They probably haven't noticed that I've done an excellent job emitting excellence on a daily basis.  Do you realize the kind of patience it takes to have your social life start up at 5pm when everyone is finally off-the-clock??  Actually it's less patience, more addictinggames.com.

Haha, although they seem heartless - they are not.  You'll find that if/when you are ever 'getting by' on the Dept of Labor's coattails, your safety net is frightfully taught.  At first you may have the urge to tangle in the net and, oh, drown them out.

I'll stop acting like my family and friends have made me some skittermark outcast.  They've done nothing but shine infinite sunlight on the fragile blades of grass that are my livelihood/career.  To which I have nothing but thank yous and empty promises of sending each one of them a heartfelt, hand-written note and some chocolate chip cookies (fresh from the Keebler Kitchen) as soon as the greens start growing.

For now, make do with a virtual glimmer of my soul.

much love, homies. xoxo