Last night I wrote 861 words. While that was over my goal of 500 words a day, the words themselves did not go into my second short story collection. Instead, I decided to dabble in a series of books that are all non-fiction about my life. Currently, I'm working on a dream book, of sorts. It's a compilation of my weirdest dreams collected over a period of one year. The starting month was last month, February, in which I had three stand-out dreams that I wish to analyze and further understand. I dunno, might be an interesting project. It's already well over 2,000 words.
This morning, at 9:30am, I got a call from the staffing agency. Seems like the resume went through and the company wanted to schedule me for an interview. I shower, shave, brush my teeth, chug coffee and bolt down to the place, which isn't that far. It's just a 15 minute drive from my apartment. I do the interview, which I think I totally screwed up on, only to learn that when I get home, my wife is buzzing with excitement. The staffing agency called and had some really good feedback. I call them up and learn that I have the job. I breathe a much-needed sigh of relief.
I've been out of work for a while. So this good news helps me digest that things won't be as hard as they have been. I may even be able to keep my iPod after all...but still wanna get rid of the projector, screen and the extra TV.
I zip over to Bolingbrook to take a drug test. I'm waiting for an hour. During that time, the waiting room has a flat-screen TV hanging on the wall. It shows a bunch of Italian women arguing and taking trash. The show is called The Real Housewives. Now this really pisses me off. Is this what people watch nowadays? These reality shows that have no substance, lack content and are nothing but a he said/ she said slug fest? It's bad enough that I have to know that a show like Jersey Shore exists, or that the three main idiots known as JWow, Snooki and The Situation all have book deals. But, honestly, these shows are piling up. And they're putting Italians like myself in a bad light, bringing all these stereotypes out of the closet: that we're dumb, touchy, loud-mouthed, obnoxious, uneducated, uber-catholic misfits.
I sigh and shake my head. I'm glad I graduated from high school, attended some college, read a book every day and have the respect of very smart individuals. I just wish I could trump these stereotypes into the ground and say, "We are not all like that. Honestly."
When I get back home I chill on the couch for a while and watch some more Prison Break. Then my wife and I head out the door to zip by office max and print out the short story I will be reading today at The Lucid Apple Open Mic at the Borders in oak park. We make it there by 7:00pm.
Guy is there, the one who hosted last year. We chat for a bit and he asks what I'm going to read. I tell him it's a non-fiction story. "I bet it will be a winning story," he says. At first I'm confused, so he clues me in on a certain interview that Charlie Sheen did recently about kicking drugs. It sounds funny. I tell him I'll look it up later.
The place had a Decent crowd. My wife's parents come to support me. I read a story called Ghostbusted, a true account of how I was laid off while wearing a Ghostbusters costume. It's pretty weird how the events lead up to that. But, having held that burden for quite some time, I feel vindicated finally by getting that out into the open, to laugh at it, basically.
Later, a man and his family play excellent guitar that is a style where you play with three fingers, like a mandolin. Their performance blows me away. I clap hard. Afterwards, I get more info on how they play and find out they give free lessons at the library. I may look into that. I shake hands with a guy named Ricardo, the main guitar player, I tell him how awesome his music is. He says, "Hey, you're the writer, right?" I say yeah. He said he heard my story while he was in the basement of the bookstore. He says I was playing over the PA. I smile.
Her parents head back home and we leave close to 9:10pm. On the way, we swing by my father's Pizza place which is a work-in-progress to take a look at how its coming along.
We come home where I make a bee line for the couch. I watch one more episode of Prison Break, then break out the heating pad. My back was aching at the Lucid Apple so I opt to relax.
My wife and I cuddle up on the couch to watch the previously mentioned Charlie Sheen video online. Yeah...from the sound of it, I'd say he's still using. I don't care what that test says.
The night has come to a close with hot chocolate, a throbbing back pain and the promise of a new job. I feel good but also tired. Very tired. So I don't plan to write any short stories tonight. Just this blog. Eventually I will go to bed.
Tomorrow I will be having a special guest post by another author whose work I have read an respect. See you then.
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