I’m taking a break from drawing pictures. I just can’t do it anymore. At least for now. That might make some of you unhappy, but I can no longer draw them. There’s too much pressure, and it’s making the writing not fun. Not that writing should be fun, but every time I write a blog, the thought of drawing these pictures scares me and makes me not want to write.
I also don’t have time to spend eight plus hours on these things anymore. Sometimes a picture might be needed and I will toss it in. But for now, I am going picture-less.
I feel like I hit a wall with this blog. It got too formulaic. Opening paragraph. Picture. Second paragraph. Picture. Continue reading button. BORING! I need to change things up. I can’t do the same thing anymore.
On my old Myspace blog, I would post whatever. I didn’t have a set length or picture requirement or any of that. For example:
The Weather Alarm
My parents used to have a weather alarm that warned us of bad weather with an annoying ringing tone. This demon machine was in our home for a long time when I was younger, but it finally broke and didn’t squeal anymore. Recently, my dad decided to buy a new one. Now every time, when there’s any threat of bad weather, this thing starts ringing and doesn’t stop until you hit a button and listen to the robotic weatherman. This creation annoys the crap out of me and apparently annoys someone else in the house, because when I woke up today, the machine was sitting on the kitchen table with all the batteries taken out…
THAT’S A BLOG POST!
Now, on my new BabushkaHeaven blog, I feel an obligation to write these long winded illustrated posts that have ups and downs and lefts and rights. Well, maybe they aren’t that complex. My posts are mainly filled with downs. Depressing downs. About myself and life.
I really have no reason to be depressed anymore. I’m in graduate school and pursuing something I supposedly love.
Originally, I was going to become a cop.
When I was 21, I was offered a conditional offer of employment with the Lake County Sheriff’s Police. I passed the physical, written, oral, psychological, and polygraph tests. All I had left was the medical exam.
Side Note: I knew I was color blind before deciding on studying law enforcement in college, but I sort of just told myself it wouldn’t be a factor and I would get hired no problem.
That sort of illogical thinking does not work. Because I failed the color vision portion of the medical exam and lost the job.
I was devastated.
After that, whenever I wanted to test with a police department, I had to call their office and ask, “Do you test for color blindness?”
To which they would often respond, “I don’t know.”
Eventually, I got fed up with the whole law enforcement thing and decided to pursue writing.
Nine years later. Here I am. In college again. At 30.
Student life is a lot different than regular life. When I was younger, my mom would tell me that student life was easier than regular life.
“Not if you work a job you like,” I would say.
“You’ll see,” my mom would say.
I do see.
Regular life sucks.
Maybe if I had a job that I enjoyed and paid something like 40k/year, I would have liked it more.
I (like many regular people) mostly worked unpleasant jobs that paid very little. I did apply to hundreds of office-type/decent pay regular jobs with no luck. Even if I did get an office-type/decent pay regular job, I don’t know if I would have liked it. I have a big problem with things like the 8-hour work day, bosses, co-workers, work gatherings, employee lunchrooms and bathrooms, etc.
I’m hoping to leave college this time with a degree that I will actually use. One thing I know for sure is that being color blind will not hinder my opportunities to work as a writer or teacher*.
*Writer or Teacher: ONLY two jobs I currently deem tolerable.
My color blindness will, however, screw me when it comes to readers who enjoy vivid colorful descriptions.
“His writing is ok, but his lack of color really turns me off.”
Anyway, hoping it all works out because, I don’t think I can start over again and return to school when I am 40. I already feel myself getting old and tired and sick of moving constantly and living with this uncertainty.
I want a decent/tolerable job after school that pays somewhat well and allows me to purchase a semi-nice house with air conditioning.
“Do you not have air conditioning now?”
“No, I don’t, person I just made up to break up the text.”
“Take off your shirt.”
“I’m not taking off my shirt.”
“But your roommates walk around shirtless.”
“That’s fine, but I don’t do shirtless.”
“Look, I just don’t like walking around the house shirtless. I’m sure it has to do with some form of insecurity. It also reminds me of my dad. Not in a bad way, but in a dad way. Like taking off your shirt is like stepping one foot into dad-hood.”
“You know, dad-hood. Basically, me acting like a dad. Socks with sandals. Jean shorts. Bad jokes.”
“I’m bored with this conversation.”
So yeah, this blog (as with life) cannot go on as it has been. It needs to evolve. And that means that (for now) the pictures are no more.
[insert funny image that depicts death of pictures]
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