I must confess, I had a really good gig. My schedule was flexible and I got paid (direct deposit, even!) to do what comes naturally to me: write, edit, and come up with crazy original creative ideas… all of which I do anyway, paid or not. It was so easy, I could do it in my sleep (and sometimes I swear I did). I had the time and freedom to pursue my music and other ventures on the side. What could be wrong with that, right?
Actually, everything. Because the work I just described was for an extreme right, narcissistic, Christian Nationalist demagogue. I’d be SO embarrassed to tell you who and have to admit that I’d enabled this a-hole for years. I put lipstick on that pig every day and smiled and nodded, and pretended the pig was legit. Even though I detested the pig and everything the pig stood for, including his thousands of adoring fans. Imagine working for Tucker Carlson. Same thing. In retrospect, it all makes me wanna throw up.
And, of course, nobody at the pig’s organization knew what I (or many others there) actually thought of its offensive and divisive ideology. I felt guilty every day knowing that my efforts made the world a colder place and encouraged a bunch of sad old sacks to keep sending in their money to support a crap farm. It was so disheartening and I always felt like such a slut.
Someday, I hope to never look back on those desperate times when I had to sell myself out to pay the bills…
I spend my days in this chair
But my thoughts are way out there
Shuffling boat loads full of busy work
And pretending that I care
(from This Is My Job by The Days on Earth)
Scrambling for money to pay the bills always hangs over creative people’s heads. We’re just not wired to kiss corporate ass. But unemployment sucks. Uncertainty sucks. Feeling impotent sucks. Having no money sucks. So we continue to compromise ourselves to one degree or another and barely get by, one day at a time.
The good news is that my conscience has cleared up considerably, but here I am once again struggling to get by (and at my age!). I’m practically unemployable because no one seems to want to hire senior creative talent like me part-time. I don’t even know how I used to do the full time thing. I work on my own stuff all day long and can’t imagine trying to add 40 hours on to my current schedule.
Once upon a time, I was quite a hot shot in the ad agency world. But my boxes full of major industry awards mean absolutely nothing to the social media kids these days. As for my own connections, I left my ad agency days behind long ago in a city a thousand miles from where I now live. Any contacts from that world haven’t heard my name in well over 20 years. Plus, I’m honestly too jaded to do that kind of work anymore. Talk about compromising your values- Sheesh!
Besides, who wants to go backward in their career (or life)? Not me. I’ve always wanted to keep moving forward. I have never enjoyed looking back. Unfortunately, I have to also admit that after all these years, I still have no idea “what I want to be when I grow up.” I wonder literally every day, where do I go from here? How can I move forward? I have no clue what else to do, so I just keep plugging away at my music and screenplays and ideas for children’s books and blogs and… (call me crazy)
And I feel isolated and alone because nobody knows any of this except my closest circle of immediate family (we’re talking, like, three people in the whole world). Even my closest friends and family don’t have a clue. I’ve moved on. In so many ways. A long time ago.
It sucks to be afraid to just “be myself,” let it all hang out, and say and do what I truly believe. I so admire those who are fearless. People like David Gilmour and Roger Waters. They seem to be comfortable in their own skin. Like John Lennon was. And Bernie Sanders is. Maybe someday when I’m financially independent.
For the moment, though, I’m sorry to say that I’m embarrassed and disappointed in myself that I have to continue to hide in anonymity. And be what people expect me to be. And sometimes sell out to disgusting pigs in order to eke out a living. It isn’t that I want to be this way.
I don’t even want to be rich. I just don’t ever want to be broke again. I want to be confident staking out my life on my own terms. And not care what this person or someone else thinks of me. God, that would be so great! That’s where I hope to be someday.
And, of course, I wish this for you.